Something Wicked This Way Comes
by Aishuu
Summary: An alternate universe. L and Raito meet under different circumstances.
1. Prologue: Look, Over There

** Vicissitude**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_ P__rologue: Look, Over There..._

The first time the man called L saw Yagami Raito was at a funeral.

It wasn't quite raining, but the sky sputtered now and then, letting water slip from its grasp in irregular spurts. The wind blew through their clothes, hinting at impending winter, but those who had chosen to wear cold weather gear were sweating slightly as they became overheated. There was simply no winning when the weather was like this.

All in all, it was an ugly day. It seemed appropriate.

L didn't usually bother to attend funerals, believing them to be a waste of time. He was an atheist, and found the whole ordeal pointless. This one, though, was special. The criminal always returned to the scene of the crime, and he wondered if he might actually finally catch a break on the Kira case. It didn't seem like Kira's style to get so close to his victims, but there was a chance. Right now L was willing to take any chance he could get.

He was standing at the back of the crowd, his hands folded deep into the pockets of his dark coat. Thankfully the weather gave him the excuse to hide under a rather chunky hat. Everyone had dressed more for the elements than for respect for the dead. Not that many people really respected the deceased. Yagami Soichiro had gambled, and it had cost him his reputation - and now his life.

They'd his death an accident, a tragedy that happened when he'd stepped into the oncoming path of a car. His blood-alcohol content had been through the roof, and the other driver, a woman in her forties, had an otherwise spotless record.

L didn't buy it. He knew Yagami didn't drink.

While people mouthed words of condolences to the family, most were secretly gleeful over the death of the rather shamed policeman. He'd been so respectable, once, but in the last few years his judgement had been questionable at best. Really, imaging that Kira was _real_ and not some political stunt.

More than half the people in the crowd were offering condolences with varying degrees of sympathy, coming for the spectacle. The family was bearing up well, L thought. He watched as the son stood between his mother and sister, a pillar of comfort as he graciously accepted the promises of future help, promises which were doomed to be broken. Within a month, people would have forgotten about Yagami, except for tall tales about the crazy investigator who'd drank himself to death.

L knew Yagami would have been proud if he could see Raito. He'd spoken often and fondly of his family, but he'd had particular pride in his son, a genius who wanted desperately to follow in his footsteps. Several times he'd broached the idea of bringing Raito into the case, which L had vetoed. He didn't need some up-start teenager with more enthusiasm than common sense to mess things up. Parents often overestimated their children, and even though Raito's test scores had been impressive, he lacked the experience necessary to confront a killer that most people didn't believe existed.

He glanced at his watch, noting that he'd have to return to his hotel shortly if he wanted to catch the evening news. Watari would record it either way, but he preferred to watch it live. Glancing through the crowd, he noted with disappointment that no one really fit his mental image of who Kira was. It had indeed been a waste of time.

Had L believed in heaven, he might have taken a moment to wish Yagami's soul well. Since he did not, he merely pulled his collar higher, trying to keep the rain from slipping in. Yagami had deserved better than this. The only thing L could do was make sure that Kira was eventually caught.

Turning to leave, he hesitated suddenly. He wasn't sure what it was. Instinct, perhaps, that someone was watching him. Something caused him to look over his shoulder, and it was only his customary composure that saved him from gasping as he met Yagami Raito's gaze squarely.

_I know who you are,_ the expression said.

L was transfixed. Even from fifteen feet away, he could see their fierceness which burned through the air between them. He nodded slightly, pulling away into the crowd and hoping to disappear as soon as possible.

The sky finally opened up, and he heard a few women shriek in surprise at the sudden downpour. The rain kissed his cheeks harshly, and he listened as the thunder boomed in the distance. 


	2. Chapter 1: Letters

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**  
Notes: This was originally titled Vicissitude.

* * *

_  
Chapter 1: Letters_

He awoke, cold.

L hadn't been sleeping much since Yagami's death. His mind, always too active to easily calm when it came time to rest, was churning over what little evidence he had. While he slept rarely, earning himself a set of truly frightening circles under his eyes, this week things had been worse than in the past.

He drew his legs up so his feet were resting against his flanks. He knew that the room's temperature was set warmer than average, around 75, so the chill had to be psychological. It was understandable.

He knew he was responsible for what had happened to Yagami. L didn't believe in accepting blame, but accepting responsibility was something else entirely. There were no feelings of guilt, but instead an additional burden of having to pick up for Yagami. Mourning was foolish; the best tribute he could pay was to finally capture the illusive phantom that had haunted them both.

It had been two years since he had first become involved in the Kira case. His own insatiable curiosity caused him to be a voracious follower of the news, and ever now and then he would pick a case which interested him. As he waded through the papers, he'd noticed a pattern.

The incidences of heart attacks had increased, even among the perfectly healthy. One by one, he watched as people with more money than common sense dropped dead in their tracks, always by a heart attack. The newspapers originally didn't see any connection since the deaths were happening across the world, but he could tell it wasn't natural. It took a few more months for people to begin to realize what he'd already acknowledged. Slowly the net began to buzz with suspicions, and Web sites began to spring up honoring the phenomenon.

They'd called it _Kira._

No one could agree what Kira was. Some people said it was a communist group which was trying to equalize the playing field. A few people started to talk of curses and evil magic, and some claimed it was a government conspiracy. Others said it was the hand of a vengeful God, anxious to punish the sinners who had offended the heavens in some mystic, inexplicable way.

L was clever, and able to unravel some of the trickiest investigations far quicker than local officials. Unable to stand incompetence, he offered his aid. There was something about the Kira case that drew his attention like a moth to flame. He always sought challenges which baffled ordinary men, mysteries which challenged his abilities and mind to a new extent.

That was how it began. Now it was an obsession, one he intellectually recognized as unhealthy, but was unable to cure. L hadn't officially ruled anything out, since there were more things on heaven and earth that he hadn't dreamt of, but privately he'd come to a few conclusions.

Kira was a person. Somehow, impossible and improbable as it seemed, someone had managed to gain the power to kill people from a distance. There were poisons which could kill people in similar a similar manner to the heart attacks, but all autopsies had called the victims natural deaths. It was possible there was a new poison which had yet to be detected, he doubted it. Administering it so widely would have required a grand conspiracy, and by now someone would have come forward, either through pride or remorse.

The idea of a god so directly interfering made L laugh inside. People were always trying to explain things through supernatural channels as a method to absolve themselves of responsibilities. It would only be able that there would be any evidence to support his theory. When the evidence came, Yagami had been inserted neatly into his life. And with that-

He forced himself to take a deep breath to clear his head. Now was not the time to be reviewing what he knew. If he kept dwelling, he'd never get any sleep, and a tired mind was a sloppy one, prone to mistakes.

He heard the door creak down the hallway, and forced himself to regulate his breathing. The light footsteps could only be Watari, the only one he could count it, his right-hand man and other self. The older gentlemen had stifled his own needs and desires in L's service for so long that neither could imagine being separated. If there was one thing L was confident of, it was the older man's loyalty.

It was hard to keep still as he heard the sound of Watari growing closer. Watari knew L hated being interrupted while he slept. It was a lingering remnant of a childhood L preferred not to think about. He refused to let anyone catch him sleeping. When Watari tentatively tapped the door, his knuckles barely brushing against the wood to raise a low, subdued knock, L called for him to enter almost immediately.

Watari opened the door slowly, peeking through the crack cautiously. L had never asked about or researched into Watari's background, but he would have wagered that Watari had spent some time in the military or an espionage agency. His actions were always thought through, reflecting a precision that could only have been taught through experience.

Even though they were close, Watari and L still kept secrets from the other.

L was sitting in the room's only chair, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. This wasn't one of the best hotels he stayed at, but he was particularly fond on this chair. Unlike most high-end hotels, the leather chair had remained even though it was starting to wear. It lacked the crisp "newness" that so many hotels took pride in. For someone who didn't have a home, it was the little things that made the largest difference. He wasn't one for sentimentality, but no matter how he tried to pretend, he was still human under it all. He liked life's little comforts and had a sweet tooth that sent him to the dentist four times a year. He hated wearing shoes and socks, finding them too restrictive.

His musing was interrupted when he noticed the way Watari was lurking, a slight tenseness in his expression that most people wouldn't have seen. L was familiar enough with his manservant and knew the subtle sign of stress.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"You have a letter," Watari said, pulling out a white envelope and displaying it. "It was hand-delivered."

L nodded slowly as his mind kicked into gear. The letter might have been just a piece of paper, but it represented so much more. Someone knew where he was staying.

"Did you check it for tampering?" There were a few contact poisons L preferred to avoid, and some bright wit had instigated mailing anthrax not too long ago. L preferred paranoia to overconfidence.

"It's clean," Watari assured him.

"We'll be moving on a bit earlier anyway. Can you see that accounts are settled?"

"We can leave within the hour."

"No, that's not necessary. Leaving in the middle of the night would attract too much attention. We'll leave at check-out time tomorrow. Let the hotel know we won't be requiring this room anymore."

He was really going to miss the chair.

Watari murmured his acceptance before handing the letter over. "It's from Yagami's son."

"He tracked down our location," L said thoughtfully. He had thought the young man curious on sight, and this was further proof. L's address was buried beneath layers of false identities and misdirection. The six hotel rooms he kept throughout Tokyo were places he visited in irregularly patterns, staying at some for anywhere between a few hours to over a month. It was possible that Raito had sent the letters to all his addresses in hope of catching him, but he rejected the thought almost immediately. From what he knew, Raito was a precise, competent individual.

Watari knew L wasn't looking for his opinion and didn't bother offering it. Watari had always been on the outskirts of L's radius, supporting discretely without interfering. Instead, he handed the letter to L, and then left after giving a brief courtesy bow.

L fingered the edge of the envelop which Watari had already opened. His address was typed neatly, and it amused him to see the name line read simply "L."

It briefly crossed his mind to just toss the letter without reading it and pretend it never arrived. He would have to take care to bury himself even deeper, but it could be done. However, ignorance definitely wasn't bliss, and his curiosity was nagging him. With a mental rebuke to that damnable little voice in his head that always wanted to know _why_, he slid the letter out, setting aside the envelop later.

Despite the typed address, Yagami Raito had taken the time to pen the letter by hand. His handwriting was elegant, with each kanji symbol constructed beautifully. It wasn't a surprise, considering Raito had ranked as the top student in the nation for his entire high school career.  
_  
To L:_

It seems strange to be addressing this to a stranger so informally, but I believe you have long been a friend to my late father, Yagami Soichiro.

I do not quite know how to broach the subject appropriately, so I have decided to take the direct route. I believe – as I'm sure you do – that my father's death was not an accident. I believe he was killed by Kira when he got too close to the truth.

While many people believed that Kira is an urban legend, I know the truth. I've been reviewing the files on my father's computer, and he often spoke of the case with me. There is simply too much evidence and too many incidences to dismiss as "coincidence."

You may think this a plea from a grieving son, but I assure you that is far from the truth. I have considered my options carefully, and have reached the inevitable conclusion that if I am to accept my father's legacy, I must work with you. With my father's death, my resources have been strictly curtailed. By joining forces, I believe we will catch Kira.

I assume you will conduct a background search on myself, and I welcome you to. While that may reveal I am simply a student with exceptional grades with ambitions toward claiming a position, I would submit to you the fact that this letter is now in your possession as proof of my ingenuity. Additionally, I have worked discretely in the past on cases which had troubled my father.

I am not interested in vengeance - I am interested in justice. Vengeance is a petty thing, an emotional concept that does more damage to the vigilante than the original culprit.

I know you will be able to contact me at your convenience. I would appreciate arranging a meeting to discuss the possibilities.

Sincerely,  
Yagami Raito

He signed it using the kanji for moon. L noted with mild interest his unusual name. Usually L would have dismissed the letter, but one phrase caught his attention.

_I am interested in justice._

Could Yagami Raito be one of those rare few who truly understood what L stood for? Could he embrace the kind of life L was forced to live by necessity in search of the truth?

He chewed thoughtfully on his thumb as he thought about the letter, squirming a bit on his chair in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. He was never able to stay still as a rule, his ever-present nervous energy keeping his body moving even as his mind worked.

It was strangely tempting to pull Raito into the investigation. He knew that no matter how prepared Raito thought he was, he wouldn't understand the reality until in the midst of danger. Despite his father, Raito was still essentially innocent.

Perhaps that would be a different perspective. L knew the value of seeing things from every angle, and had often found Yagami's more plodding way of thought beneficial. Yagami hadn't jumped to conclusions regularly, but when he did, it was insightful. L had usually found flaws in his logic, but sometimes he had opened different avenues that L had previously dismissed.

Raito wouldn't be his father. Raito would probably have the devotion to truth that had made him L's prized confidant, but he wouldn't think like a common man. L had a sneaking suspicion that Raito might even be able to think as he did, completely outside the box. But Raito was just a teenager, overly enthusiastic and prone to dramatic action. L wondered if he would remain as enthusiastic if he realized there would be no glamor in the work.

He heard Watari's footsteps again, and the expected knock came. He smiled in thanks as Watari wordlessly set a tray down before departing just silently. The door clicked behind him.

The strawberry cake definitely put L in a better frame of mind, and the tea gave his system a much-needed jolt of caffeine. He ate slowly, feeling a bit of tension drain away and his thoughts clear.

What would it hurt, if he let Raito in on the investigation? Nothing. What could he gain? He wasn't sure, but this was one case where working alone had brought him nowhere. He licked his fork clean, making his decision.

His feet were cold, even against the carpeted floor as he shuffled over to the desk he'd had arranged. It was full of pens and papers, scattered around in a haphazard fashion. He knew where everything was, though, so he managed to find a flair pen quickly.

His paper ran the gamut, from high-end engraved letterhead to cute, pink school girl-esque stationary decorated in fanciful "sealed with a kiss!" squiggles. There had been times he had needed these in the past, but he preferred the stark blankness of computer paper. It was easier to fill the cheaper sheets with his scribbles as he worked his way through problems. He had a habit of doodling on the margins of letters as he considered what to say contributed more than enough ornamentation. People who received letters from L always remembered them.

Drawing out three sheets of his favored paper, he rested the tip of the pen against his chin as he tried to figure out how to phrase himself. 


	3. Chapter 2: Jolt

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part Two: Jolt_

The only times L tended to get out were when he was moving between his hotels. He wasn't a big fan of sunlight, and he hated being around other people. The press of the crowd on Tokyo's streets made him feel claustrophobic, and a bit out of control. People tended to _stare_ at him, and though he wasn't self-conscious, he was paranoid. That was part of the reason he hid his real name. Others, some more pertinent, weren't worth dwelling on.

For L to be out around seven at night at a small café in Chiyota was definitely unusual. For him to meet a stranger was completely unprecedented, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He was going to catch Kira no matter what it required. He knew this café had no security cameras, so it wasn't as much a risk as it could have been.

He arrived an hour early, anticipating that Raito would probably come half an hour before their scheduled meeting. To his amusement and discomfort, he ended up holding the door open for Raito who was on his way in as well.

Raito smiled slightly, nodding his head toward a booth in the corner. "Shall we?"

L shrugged, deciding there was no point in trying to outguess Raito and no censure was needed. "Let's."

They were probably about the same height, but L's lousy posture made him appear to be several inches shorter. As they slid into their seats, L took a moment to consider Raito.

Raito looked different than he had in the photo Yagami had kept in his wallet. The picture hadn't been able to convey the sheer intensity of his dark eyes or the intelligence that was reflected in them. The brown leather jacket he wore complemented his coloring far more than L's navy blue and purple windbreaker suited him. Even though his official records claimed Raito had brown hair, L would have disagreed with that description. There were sun-kissed blond strands mixed in the thick hair, creating an enticing dark honey that begged to have fingers mess it up. It was an odd thought to indulge in. L usually wasn't so fanciful.

All in all, L instantly detested him. It was an irrational feeling, but one L's childish streak couldn't relinquish. L watched as most of the women and a few of the men in the café stared outright at Raito. The college student didn't seem to notice the way he was drawing gazes of appreciation and lust.

It wasn't that Raito was simply handsome, L thought. Raito radiated confidence and assurance, a subtle charisma that L was sadly lacking. Raito had _presence_ and people were naturally attracted to it. He was every mother's ideal son, the perfect boyfriend and best friend wrapped into one very nice package. L wasn't jealous, exactly, but it was hard to deal with someone who was as close to the pinnacle of perfection as a human being could reach. He'd found that they tended to be arrogant, whether overtly or disguised through false humility, and L disliked unwarranted pride.

The waitress came promptly, a faint flush on her cheeks as she focused on Raito. "Can I get you something?" she asked, her eyes never leaving Raito's face.

"Could we see the menu first?" L asked, a bit amused at the way she jumped a bit at the sound of his voice. He'd been completely overlooked, despite his rather unusual appearance.

"Um, yes, sure..." she replied, a bit off balance before she hustled off to procure the requested item. Raito didn't react at all, his expression pleasantly neutral as he was handed a menu.

"Thank you. If you'll give us a few minutes?" he asked, the dismissal gentle but firm. L watched as she hurried to obey again, like a well-trained dog. He knew she'd be returning at precisely the five minute mark.

Raito didn't bother studying the menu, neatly setting it aside. L could feel the way Raito was examining him, but chose to ignore it in favor of a mental debate whether to get cheesecake or chocolate mousse. He'd heard the cheesecake was especially good here, but the mousse sounded like a good idea since one could never go wrong with chocolate.

He decided to simplify matters and just get both. Satisfied, he folded the menu and set it down. Raito was still looking at him like he was a specimen on a slide.

"Do you know what you want?" L asked, trying to find some place to begin the conversation.

"Just some coffee," Raito answered. "I'm not very hungry."

L squinted, thinking the features more angular then the pictures had shown. "You've lost weight."

"Having your father die does that to a person." The reply was spoken politely enough, but the venom in the words was undeniable.

"I do offer you my condolences," L replied, shifting on the booth's seat, pulling his feet up so he crouched in the chair. It was a more comfortable manner of sitting for him, though most people thought it bizarre. A few people who'd been stealing looks at Raito shifted their attention to him, their confusion clear. L could have predicted exactly what they were thinking.

_Why is such a handsome boy with such a freak? Is he merely being charitable? He's so kind to take care of the poor kid._

Raito didn't blink as L assumed the rather spider-like position. It was a point to his credit, L decided. "Thank you," Raito replied, and that was the end of the topic.

The waitress reappeared, her hands fidgeting with the green apron that was wrapped around her slender waist. Her posture was shy and the faint blush on her face made her look younger than the twenty-something she probably was. "Have you decided?" she asked.

"I'll just have some coffee," Raito said.

"Are you sure?" she asked, concern coloring her words. She clearly wanted to insist that Raito needed to eat something.

"Yes." He stood firm.

"I'll have some coffee as well, along with cheesecake and chocolate mousse. Could you throw some strawberries on the cake, and add extra whipped cream with the mousse?" L inserted, smiling innocently as the waitress started scribbling the notes a moment late. She nodded, smiled at Raito, and headed for the kitchen.

L could hear the buzz of tourists who'd just returned from the palace from the nearest table, their babble a convenient cover. Despite their mismatched pairing, it wouldn't be likely people would think anything of him and Raito. A little strangeness could be overlooked as a student's rebellion.

Silence hung between them like a thick drape, obscuring communication. They stared at each other uncomfortably before L caved. "You recognized me at the funeral," L said.

"My father described you a couple of times," The smile on Raito's face was touched by sadness. "You're very distinctive, so it wasn't that hard to figure out."

L knew he tended to stick in people's memories. It wasn't his looks that caught there attention, but his odd, nearly boneless way of movement and abnormal body language. People always caught things that were out of the ordinary, and even if he tried, L could not act like just a member of the sea of humanity that swelled around him - so he didn't even bother trying.

"That may be true," he conceded. "I am concerned, naturally, about your enthusiasm. Kira is not something to be handled lightly."

"I would say you came me here to warn me off the case, but I doubt it," Raito replied.

L tilted his head slightly to the left, encouraging Raito to explain.

Raito could tell he was being tested. "If you wanted to stop me from pursuing the case, you would have ignored the letter, hoping I would lose interest. Without any kind of connection, there is a high probability I would get frustrated and quit. Many people start out these kinds of investigations, but few have the patience to devote themselves to it."

Raito's rational was perfect, as L had expected. "So what do you think I want, then?" Let Raito be the one to start the ball rolling.

"I think you've probably come to a dead end in your investigation and need to explore all the avenues open to you. My father was able to help you advance your work, so you're hoping that I might prove to be useful as well," Raito said.

He wasn't sure if he was pleased that Raito was as sharp as he'd thought. The reasoning was sound and his explanation was concise. Often times people who were capable of understanding something weren't able to elucidate, their thinking muddled by words. It was a rare and valuable gift.

This time the waitress was the one who interrupted L in a form of unexpected revenge. She balanced her tray with the precision of experience as she navigated down the thin aisle. Deftly she placed their cups in front of them both, "accidently" pressing against Raito's arm as she leaned across the table to serve L. Raito accepted her apology absent-mindedly in a way that made it clear such "accidents" happened often around him. The waitress looked disappointed, but left when it was apparent she had no excuse to linger.

They both reached for the creamer at the same time. Their hands brushed, and a crackle of static electricity lanced between them, causing a slight grunt of pain to slip through Raito's lips at the jolt. If L had been superstitious, he might have thought that a bad omen. Instead he merely made a note to lift his feet more when he was walking. He'd must have built up the charge due to the restaurant's carpets.

"I'm sorry," Raito said politely, withdrawing his hand so L had possession of the pitcher.

Most people would have demurred and offered their own apology or waved the incident off, but L wasn't most people. He ignored it, happily topping his coffee with enough cream to turn the beverage lukewarm.

Raito looked a bit taken aback as L daintily sipped. "That's... not very healthy," he finally said. His own coffee lacked sugar entirely, with just a touch of cream to cool it.

L smiled, never happier than when consuming sugar. "It tastes better this way, and I have a high metabolism."

Raito just took a sip of coffee, cradling his cup in his hands as L attacked his cheesecake, cutting a piece neatly off, scraping it along the strawberry juice before depositing it in his mouth. The cake was rich and creamy, the café living up to its reputation for excellent desserts. He chewed slowly, savoring the taste that danced across his tongue.

It was a test of patience for Raito, a subtle one L knew would serve to irritate. Deferring important business in favor of food wasn't a popular decision at any time. Now, with the death of Yagami on their shoulders, it was an even more trying move.

Raito was indeed remarkable. He didn't flinch under the pressure. Instead he sat drinking his coffee the way he would with an acquaintance he was comfortable with.

"What conclusions have you reached?" L asked a couple minutes later as he pushed aside the empty cheesecake plate and pulled the mousse closer. Picking up a spoon, he collected a small amount of chocolate, waiting for Raito.

Raito didn't answer immediately, the pause indication he was thinking on how to phrase himself. "Kira is a person, a lone individual. There is a pattern in those who've died."

"What have you noticed?"

"The people Kira kills... well, for lack of a better word, are selfish."

It wasn't an assessment L disagreed with, but he wanted to see if Raito had any new insights. "Selfish?"

Raito nodded. "The people who've died are famous individuals who are rich or have made some kind of negative contribution to society. Kira probably thinks they deserved to be punished for their attitude toward others. They are not "supportive" of humanity, so they need to be removed. Kira is probably a lower-middle class person, late teens to early thirties - young enough to be idealistic but old enough to have some cynicism. They believe the world should be fair, and are upset that it is not. Whoever Kira is, they see themself as above the law...as I'm sure you've already figured out."

Raito's analysis matched L's very closely. He licked his spoon as he made a decision. Like it or not, the best course of action would be to accept Raito into his investigation. Someone who was able to draw such an exact picture without all of L's resources would be a formidable ally.

"You're right," L admitted, "though I'd narrow Kira's age range to the early-to-mid-twenties. Kira moves with confidence that he will never be caught."

Raito was able to detect the surety L spoke with. "How do you know?"

"Because Kira's been sending letters." 


	4. Chapter 3: Our Distance and That Person

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_  
Part Three: Our Distance and That Person_

A week after meeting Raito, L had to admit the teenager was gradually growing on him. There was a sincerity about him that wasn't feigned, but it was mixed with an aloofness that made him difficult to really know. L himself was a bit hard to understand, so it was something he could cope with.

What L really liked about Raito was that he was _smart._ It wasn't just book smarts, but a true understanding of the human condition. Raito had a wide breadth of knowledge, and it was thrilling to engage in a match of wits with him. Every now and then they would find themselves finishing each other's sentences, which irritated them both. They were both used to being head's above everyone else when it came to the brains department, so it was an adjustment for each to admit that the other might be as good as he was.

They met every other day, at whatever hotel L was staying at. He was still a bit annoyed at being forced away from his favorite chair, but if Raito could find him, someone else might be able to as well. He carefully kept two of his hotels out of his schedule, reserving them for a fallback in case something went wrong with Raito.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and Raito had come as soon as his classes had finished. He had told his mother and the few admirers that he was working a rather boring transcriptions job that required confidentiality. People accepted that, and L had arranged for a small paycheck to be sent from one of the dummy companies he used to file tax returns. It was the details that made a cover truly successful.

Raito still appeared neat, despite his slightly loosened tie. He'd folded and set his sports jacket over the chair about half an hour ago, and rolled up his shirt sleeves, but he still looked like a model stepping off one of the pages of the glossy magazines girls liked. L would never understand how a man could willingly wrap a noose around his neck.

L found himself watching Raito carefully as he reviewed the files. There was a lot of information, and even with a nearly eidetic memory, it took time to review and process. Raito read quickly, but would occasional set the file down and ask questions where information seemed sketchy or incomplete. He'd noted Raito had the habit of twirling a pen in his hand as he worked, the slow twining through slender fingers oddly hypnotic. When he found something particularly interesting, the movement would stop, and L knew a question would be forthcoming.

The pen paused, and L braced himself. Then Raito set it down, and L watched curiously. He hadn't done that before.

"Kira is getting bolder," Raito announced. It had taken him a week to make this official pronouncement, an obvious conclusion that most people would reach after only a half and hour perusing L's files. It would have been tempting to dismiss Raito as being slow on the uptake, but Raito was like a scientist, exploring and discarding theories before making a decision. Rushing would get them nowhere. Things needed to be done methodically.

"He is," L agreed.

"He's taken his crusade to the next level. The people..." Raito shrugged, but L understood. Most people would have fixated on the letters Kira was sending, either through the mail or by taking out small newspaper ads. Raito, though, was concentrating on whom the victims were. "It was simple at first. Kill the people who are known to be cruel and selfish. A lot of people were the kind you'd think the world might be better off without - the people who take wealth at the expense of others. The socialite who gets a man fired for spilling water on her and sues his restaurant for pain and suffering, the company owner who gives himself a raise while firing 400 people, the man who puts his mother in a low-care nursing home while spending her money on a new car for himself. The cases were all publicized, and while most people would condemn them, they weren't doing anything illegal - just amoral."

L knew all of those cases, and others like it. As he scanned the obituaries every day, he made notes on which deaths had likely been caused by Kira. "There's nothing wrong with being amoral," L said.

Raito shrugged. He had a strong sense of justice that was still tainted by his youth. He might intellectually know that the world was unfair, but emotionally that would take longer to except. "Perhaps," he said diplomatically. "It's his more recent victims I find more interesting. His pattern is getting wider. Killing the spokesman that advocates abortions, the main advocate of off shoring in Japan, a man who believes in tax breaks for wealthy - Kira's become a crusader."

"But he's also offering people a chance to save themselves by repenting," L said. "If they change what Kira doesn't like, he lets them live." He selected a painfully thin file on those who had survived being the object of Kira's attention. There were classified clippings and photocopies of letters L had amassed, along with the resultant actions.

"Most won't. Kira is an urban legend, after all." The slightly derisive edge to his voice made it clear what Raito thought of that conclusion. He had again struck the heart of the problem. Once, people had believed that Kira might exist, but after a fruitless police investigation, they had conceded they were merely trying to explain away the bizarre coincidences. Sometimes things just _happened_.

"There are those that believe and do as he asks, which only encourages Kira. If he can change their minds, it means he's right," L said.

"What would you do, if Kira targeted you?" Raito sounded curious.

"I already am one of Kira's targets. He knows that I'm investigating, and I'm sure he'd dearly love to get ahold of me. I am not on his side, therefore I'm against him. It's childish."

He began fiddling with the pen again, rolling it back and forth across his thigh. "No. I mean... if you knew for a fact that Kira was going to kill you, and offered you a chance of forgiveness, would you take it?"

"Definitely not."

Raito looked doubtful. "Man's strongest instinct is his own survival. Once you're dead, that's it. I would think an atheist would have even keener survival instincts."

"How do you know I'm atheist?"

"It shows," Raito said. "You only believe in yourself."

"Better than being agnostic."

Raito just laughed softly. "Perhaps - but maybe it just means my mind is more open."

"And what does your open mind tell you?"

"That Kira's left no tracks, and we're back to square one."

It was too true. The Kira investigation was still getting no where. It was incredibly frustrating to pick up the newspaper and flip to the obituary section. Every day L would see names of people who shouldn't have died; people who wouldn't have died if he'd been faster, smarter, cleverer. Despite an IQ which made him a Mensa member, he was defeated daily by someone who was childish and petty.

"It's crossed my mind that you could be Kira." L wanted to open this line of thought up, just to see how Raito would react.

Raito's hands froze and he took a deep breath. "Please tell me that's just a very unfunny joke," he said, ice lacing his normally soft voice.

"No. You do have to admit-"

"Kira killed my father," Raito said, and his voice rose in pitch, indicating his agitation. "Do you honestly think me capable of killing my own father? Not to mention the thousands who have died since Kira began? Do you really think I'm such a monster?"

L did think he was quite capable. Despite all of his innocence, there was something distant Raito displayed every now and then, an ingrained belief that he was better than anyone else. He never quite walked over the line of "slightly condescending" but sometimes Raito seemed surprised that others weren't able to come to the "obvious" conclusions. Raito just didn't class himself with the rest of humanity.

"I think you will always do what you see as right," L said carefully. "You are definitely capable of trying to change the world."

"You're more likely to be Kira than I am," Raito retorted. "It would be the perfect cover - the investigator who can never find the villain because he _is_ the villain. You've been working on this case for two years, and you're no closer to finding Kira than when you started. Maybe you killed my father because he discovered the truth."

The blame game was perilous. Logically, they each could come up with reasons not to trust the other, and the infinite cycle would gradually destroy them both. L had offered Raito more of his respect than he lent to most people, but trust was another thing entirely.

"Maybe I did, but that raises the question of why I would bring you in on the investigation."

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer," Raito replied.

"Do you think I'm your enemy?" L was genuinely curious.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Raito let his gaze drop, before digging out one of the pieces of paper. L recognized Yagami's energetic hand, and wondered for a second if it was painful for Raito to be going through his late father's work. "My father created a general profile of what Kira's victims are like. The one thing they all have in common is they're in the media, usually a few days before their deaths. The media can range from television to magazines, but they always appear with a picture."

"Kira likes having a name and face," L said. "It's probably why I'm still alive."

"It's what led me to believe that Kira is not a force, but rather a person back when he started to kill. The messages he's been sending only help confirm it. Originally everyone targeted died by heart attack, but deaths like my father's are more common."

L wiggled his toes, wishing he'd thought to send Watari for creamsicles. He really had a craving for them now. "It makes him harder to trace. A few might be natural deaths or freak accidents, like Ota Yuzo."

"Having a piano fall on him as it was being lifted to the fifth floor?"

"It was weird and sounds like it came from an American cartoon, but all records show he walked there regularly, and that music teacher changed her pianos yearly," L argued. "And that delivery man was also wounded. Kira doesn't like hurting innocent bystanders."

"True." Raito conceded the point. "That is another trademark - Kira doesn't kill people in groups. That's scarier in some ways."

"Is it? I think it's reassuring. He has to take time to plan each death, instead of being able to knock everyone off in broad sweeps."

"That's why it's scary. He plans each death. The premeditation that shows is horrible. If it was a bomb in a train station, that would be one thing. But the way Kira kills is intimate," Raito said.

L could understand that point of view. "He knows the victim. There's nothing random about it. To him, they are little better than rodents, annoying pests that must be eliminated." Raito was quiet, and L realized he hadn't taken Yagami into account. He had spoken too harshly. "Raito, I didn't mean..." he trailed off. He had never learned how to apologize.

There was that shrug again, the one that showed Raito was dismissing something. "Now what?"

"We find someone who will stand up to Kira, and figure out how to protect them."

"Do you think it's possible? Kira... once you earned his attention, it's like getting the kiss of death," Raito said. His fingers lingered over one of the notes his father had written. "How can you stop someone with the power to say if someone lives or dies?"


	5. Chapter 4: Hey, You Know?

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

_

* * *

Part Four: Hey, You Know...?_

L remembered the first time he'd seen Yagami Soichiro in person.

It hadn't been a chance encounter, no matter what Yagami would believe to his dying day. L wanted to see what the older man was like with his own eyes, and if he was worth admitting into the investigation. He'd done some work covertly before with the Japanese police, and Yagami had been a great asset then, but this time he had Kira to contend with, and routine thinking would only be a hindrance. L had methodically set up their meeting, predicting a probable encounter if he took certain actions during a storm that the meteorologists had called inevitable. After a week of research on the man, he knew Yagami's habits better than Yagami did himself.

The older man was huddling on a stoop out of the way of the pedestrians who dared brave the downpour, holding a three-day old newspaper over his head for the scant shelter it offered him from the rain. It was a harsh rain, tapering off every now and then as it offered false hope of abating. L used the excuse to climb on the step next to him, waiting for the storm to move on. Yagami didn't spare him a look.

"Hey, you know what time it is?" L asked with a touch of rudeness. He'd always found people reacted more honestly when manners didn't confuse the equation.

Yagami turned around to look at his company. Only the slightest hint of his eyes widening showed he was at all surprised by L's appearance. L was wearing a over-sized hooded sweatshirt, but he knew parts of his wild hair were sticking out. His sockless feet were stuffed into shoes that had laces dangling precariously untied, while his jeans hung low on his thin hips, their cuffs brushing the ground as he stood. He looked like someone who dressed by shopping at Goodwill, hardly the kind of person who deserved the attention of someone like Yagami.

Yagami diligently checked his watch anyway, letting one side of the newspaper droop. "It's 5:24," he said. He smiled kindly at the younger man before catching the paper again and raising it.

"Are you in a hurry tonight?" L asked, attempting to make conversation. His shoes "squished" a bit as he shifted on his feet, water threatening his toes. 

Yagami turned his head slightly so he could look into L's huge, dark eyes. "No more than usual." He was still kind, but L saw the quick instant of calculation that passed through Yagami's mind, triggered by L's unusual nosiness. Yagami surreptitiously scanned L for a weapon, an action L full-heartedly approved of. Safety first, trust later.

"It will be hard to catch a train in weather like this," L replied.

"How did you know I was planning on taking the train? I could be catching a cab," he said. They were a distance from the station, and many people would have just called a cab to avoid getting drenched.

"Your pass is in your breast pocket," L replied. He nodded to edge of a blue card which was barely visible. "You're wearing good shoes, but they've got wear on the heel. I find it unlikely you'd be afraid to walk. Most likely you're waiting for a slight break in the storm."

It was sound, but unimpressive logic. Yagami rose to the challenge brilliantly.

"Maybe I normally walk, but I forgot my umbrella. I could be planning on a cab," he replied.

L smiled a bit, pleased that Yagami wasn't frightened off by his presence. "Yes, but there's the pass and the fact you're waiting here."

"There's that, but I could also just be waiting for a cab I've already called. Or maybe my wife is picking me up at this location," he said. The gold of his wedding band flashed tiredly in the gloom of the early evening.

"You could, but I find it unlikely. You seem like the kind of man who prefers to drive himself."

Yagami smiled again, this time the faint pull of his lips lifting his heavy mustache. "You're probably right there." He stared at L curiously. "Is there some reason for their interrogation?"

Direct and to the point. L decided he liked Yagami, and knew he was making the right decision. He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. "That depends on you, Yagami Soichiro."

There was no alarm in the man's face, merely a narrowing of his eyebrows. "How do you know my name?"

"Because I am L, and I have a request of you."

* * *

L wondered what Yagami would think of his partnership with Raito. More than once, Yagami had mentioned that L reminded him of his son. Now that L had met Raito, he recognized it for a compliment, though a rather backhanded one.

Raito's stubbornness would have made a mule pause. He went after what he wanted with a hard-headed intensity that was impressive and worrying at the same time. L knew Raito was sleeping four hours a day at most as he balanced the investigation with his schoolwork. Raito still had a 4.0 while taking a course load that would have made most people weep in frustration.

L had suggested, gently, that Raito might consider taking a lighter course schedule next semester. "It would be understandable, considering your father has recently passed on," he explained.

Raito's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm not giving up," he said. "There's no way I'm letting Kira win like that."

"I doubt that Kira's objective is to make you slow down," L said with amusement.

"It's not, but Kira is trying to change the world. Whatever I do in response to that is because of him. Once he kills someone, their lives don't matter anymore. It's the ones who are left behind whom Kira truly hurts."

"Well, we'll have to find some way to make it easier, then, won't we?" L murmured in reply. Raito was so earnest that comparing him to a well-trained dog wouldn't have been off base. Sometimes L would find himself wishing he could understand that kind of innocence, the belief that hard work would invariably win out.

L was too much of a realist to believe that. L knew that his abilities, exceptional as they were, could be overcome in the right circumstances. That Kira seemed to be the only person he couldn't get his hands on was something he'd come to acknowledge, but not accept. He realized that he had less than a twenty percent chance of catching the serial killer.

He was also a very sore loser who refused to admit defeat. Maybe he was as stubborn as Raito, since he was still working on the case over two years after starting. Accepting Raito seemed to be the best option available to him, so he would be damned if he let Raito work himself to death first.

That was how he came to be at Touou that day, late in May. A few cherry blossoms were still lingering on the trees, but the majority of the blooms had passed. He admired the architecture, and although it was over fifty years old, it still seemed new to his eyes, which had toured Europe and China along with the parts of Japan that had survived the war. The newer buildings lacked character and history, austere compared to the intricacies that craftsmen, proud of their work, had taken time to instill. L preferred the newer design, finding them more practical for a modern age.

The students, one and all, were dressed neatly, carrying heavy backpacks and wearing serious expressions. A few stared at him as he shuffled passed, but most averted their eyes. The whispering of conversation that followed him was undoubtedly as scornful as it was colorful.

He wandered for a bit, taking in the atmosphere. His skin tingled a bit at being out in the open, and he was relieved he'd taken the time to put sun screen on. He dreaded the thought of skin cancer. Some would call him something of a hypochondriac, and they would have been right. His mind was always thinking of the possibilities, and he rarely thought of the positive consequences. It made him overly cautious.

He knew Raito's schedule, and predicted that he would probably pass the cafeteria within three minutes. He found a bench to sit on, and took his usual posture, drawing concerned looks but no challenges.

He used the time to mentally prepare what to say to Raito. His hands fidgeted with the folder he had brought, and he wished that he dared go into the café to grab a snack. Sadly, time wouldn't allow for it.

Looking around, he scanned for Raito, and wasn't disappointed. Right on schedule; L would have to work with him on that. Raito was far too predictable for his own good. The popular boy was flanked by two pretty girls, and had three guys following him. It was what L expected of him, and he was pleased to note the crowd was blocking Raito's view of where L was sitting. Time for another little test.

"Hey, you know what time it is?" he called out, reflecting back to when he'd met Yagami, more than two years gone.

Raito was more stunned than his father had been, whipping his head around suddenly. Raito had never seen him outside of the hotel rooms, and the slight distaste in his eyes as he scanned L's sloppy appearance was carefully covered by the faux smile that spread across his face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked curiously, coming over to his. His entourage tagged along obediently.

L tapped the manilla folder against his hip with a touch of impatience. He hated staying still. "I wanted to talk to you about next semester." He offered a nod of acknowledgment to Raito's companions. "How do you do? I'm Ryuuka Hideki," he said. "Raito-kun's an old friend of mine."

The girl standing to Raito's right giggled. "Like the idol?" she asked, a bit of disparaging amusement coloring her words. She'd obviously judged him as a poor relation which Raito merely tolerated because he was such a kind young man.

"Same kanji," L confirmed. The woman's voice got on his nerves and he wondered how Raito could stand it daily.

"You don't look anything alike," she replied, and the light in her eyes was full of mischief and a touch of cruelty.

"I wouldn't want to look like a dress-up doll," L replied, shrugging as he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants.

The other girl, elegantly dressed and with a coiffure that spoke of practicality mingled with appreciation for style, pressed Raito's arm to gather his attention. "Maybe we should talk later?" she asked.

"Yes, that would be better. I forgot Ryuuka was coming to meet me," Raito said smoothly, creating the lie on the spot. Interesting, L thought. He hadn't believe Raito capable of lying that well.

She dropped a kiss against the air close to Raito's cheek, not making any actual physical contact. "I'll see you tomorrow in biochem," she said. She nodded to L, and then gave the rest of the group a _look._ They murmured hasty farewells, departing under new leadership.

"Your girlfriend?" L asked with interest. She had been pretty and had a strong will, exactly what he would have expected Raito's girlfriend to be like. He wouldn't be able to tolerate an air head for long, not with his own demanding intellect. Most importantly, she had instantly recognized Raito's need for space, and had responded accordingly.

"Takada Kiyomi. She's pleasant company, I suppose," Raito said with a shrug.

"She's the campus queen, and you just call her 'pleasant company?'" L asked carefully.

Raito didn't even bother asking how L knew that, assuming L had already researched most of his contacts. "I don't have time to be dating right now."

"Raito-kun, your father wouldn't want you to give up your life in pursuit of his killer," L chided.

"I'm not. I'm doing what I think is right, _Ryuuka_," he stressed.

L glanced around, noting the attention that Raito's presence naturally drew. "Would you have some time now?" he asked.

"Back to your place?" Raito asked. He shifted his backpack on his shoulder, but didn't offer L a hand to rise.

"Not needed. I just wanted to drop off a few files you might find of interest." L held the envelop temptingly in front of Raito.

Raito shifted his backpack again, his eyes alight with interest. "Did you find something?"

"Not on the case. I'm relocating headquarters, and I thought you'd like to see."

L had already moved three times since Raito knew him, but this was the first time he'd offered any kind of insight. Raito took the package slowly, his eyes questioning. "Where?"

"Who would suspect two college students of heading the Kira investigation?" L gave a slight smile. "I'm entering the graduate program here, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in splitting the rent for an apartment?"  



	6. Chapter 5: The Space Between Dream

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part Five: The Space Between Dream and Reality_

L was getting used to Raito's frequent comings and goings. Since becoming roommates a month ago, they'd slowly learned about each other, with a few close calls emphasizing their individual needs for space.

L missed having Watari around to look after him, but accepted it as a part of the price he'd pay to advance the Kira investigation. Watari would be able to coordinate L's networks on his own for the time being, and removing those concerns from L's immediate radius let him concentrate like never before. He missed it a bit. It was like going through withdrawal in a way - uncomfortable but necessary.

It was much more efficient to have Raito around since L didn't operate on a regular schedule. L would work until he was exhausted, sometimes staying up for two days without any sleep. Raito had tried to keep up with him the first week, but had eventually conceded defeat. He declared that between two and six a.m., he would most definitely be sleeping unless Kira showed up on their doorstep looking for a game of Go.

"You can't work to the fullest extent of your abilities if you're tired," he said. He didn't make any comments on L's own sleeping patterns.

There had been other adjustments. Raito, despite being prodigious in just about everything else, was horrible in the kitchen. The food he produced was bland at best, nearly toxic at its worst. The curry he'd produced on their third night of living together had actually turned L's usually iron stomach. It made L, as he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair for the rest of the evening, wonder if Kira had somehow found out about both of them and decided to solve things through poisoning.

The stack of take-out menus they'd compiled since was quite impressive. L's own cooking abilities weren't anything to write home about. Always before, he'd had Watari to take care of him. Trying to live like an average young adult was pushing him like nothing else had.

Raito was freakishly obsessed with routine and plans. L knew he woke up at exactly six, took a twelve minutes shower, dressed and was reading the newspaper by 6:17. L, who picked it up earlier, had learned not to scribble his thoughts on the paper until after Raito had his chance. Raito would make notes in a long, slender reporter's notebook he always kept on his person, impeccably neat. L once took a glance and had been impressed how organized his thinking was. L tended to be intuitive, figuring out the solution and then working his way back through the problem. Raito was exactly the opposite.

It was Thursday, and L had completed his classes earlier. He'd elected for morning classes, majoring in literature. Raito had raised an eyebrow about his curriculum, but L had shrugged it off. Studying literature was easy, and let his mind rest. If he'd chosen law, it would have been like agreeing to a diet only of chocolate. The Kira case was enough.

The sound of the key in the lock jerked his attention away from the screen. He rotated his chair slightly so he faced Raito as he entered their apartment. "Hosuda Hayao died today," L said in lieu of a greeting.

"I know." Raito removed his shoes in the genkan, setting them in their place neatly before sliding on his slippers.

"Rather painfully, too," L felt compelled to add.

"Getting torn apart by dogs would be," Raito agreed. His backpack was set neatly on the hall table and he stepped into the main part of the room. He'd just been at some study meeting or other, and it was already passed eight. Raito was very popular, and even though he made as many excuses as he could, his presence was in high demand from his friends, peers and family. L had insisted Raito keep as normal a life as possible, just in case Kira decided to check in on Yagami's family. It wouldn't be unthinkable for that to happen.

The slight widening of the black in his eyes as his pupils dilated took only seconds. L kept the main room poorly lit with only the illumination of multiple computer monitors. Raito had tripped around the first few days, but hadn't made a complaint. He was relatively accepting of all of L's peculiar habits, which made him a pretty decent roommate.

"They're going to put the dogs down," L said. He saw that as just a great a crime as anything Kira had done. The dogs had been controlled by something and acted out of character, and now were being unfairly punished. Neighbors had said Hosuda's pets had always been very sweet. One used to let her toddler play with them regularly. They couldn't understand how it had happened.

"That's understandable. They've tasted blood," Raito replied. He walked to L to glance at the two nearest computer screens. One of them contained information about Hosuda, and the screen saver, featuring various scenic vistas, was flickering on the other at a pace quickly enough to make a person dizzy. L always set his computer's reactions at their highest point. "Was there anything notable about it?"

"A police officer threw up on seeing the scene, not unexpected. Kira seems to be getting more violent." L absentmindedly took a bite of the cherry strudel he held in his left hand. A bit of the filling threatened to dribble onto his shirt, so he licked the side of the pastry to avoid a mess.

Raito looked at the dessert with resignation. L was always eating; it was a wonder he didn't weigh three hundred pounds. Raito hardly ate enough to keep a bird fed. There had been several times where L had to remind him to eat. Imagine, forgetting to feed yourself. Of course, Raito's cooking might have something to do with it.

"It could suggest he's getting more disorganized," Raito said thoughtfully. L had managed to procure pictures of the crime scene from the police department's database. The images, both in black and white and color, were gruesome. Raito merely studied them, taking in the information clinically. "He'll start slipping up more."

"And the body count will continue to rise," L returned. He took another bite of the strudel before deciding it would be a waste of time to continue to profile Kira. They'd been over and over everything they knew dozens of times together. Time for the next topic. "I found Kira's next target." He waved a newspaper in front of Raito's nose, a rather popular rag that appealed to women. "It seems he finds fur an objectionable fashion statement."

"And you didn't see fit to mention this first?" Raito read the ad almost instantly. "Misa Misa will die like an animal if she doesn't stop killing them for the sake of pride, 6-17-04; 18:01. Who's Misa Misa?" The name sounded awkward coming from Raito. He didn't do cute well.

"Amane Misa's her real name, but she uses Misa Misa for professional purposes. She's currently the top model for the Kiss! Lipstick campaign. The threat's about her new job with Ryoguchi, which had released a line including fur." L handed over a sheaf of papers three-inches thick. "I had Watari compile a brief file on her."

Raito snorted lightly. "Remind me to ask what an in-depth profile looks like sometime."

"Want to see the folder I have on you?" L replied. He was unable to keep from baiting Raito, because every now and then Raito would turn red as he tried to keep his temper under control. It was so interesting to watch.

"Are we sure this is a real threat?" There had been a few imitations lately which frustrated them both at the time wasted tracking them down.

"Date and time, along with demand. It strikes me as Kira's usual childishness, and the venue chosen fits in with his usual modus operandi. I give it ninety percent likelihood of being real."

Raito flipped the paper over, noting its date. "This is the evening edition. Chances are she isn't aware of the threat, or won't take it seriously."

"Most likely she'll dismiss it without thought, despite all the Kira killings. Reports indicate she's not too high in the intelligence department, rather like those girls that hang around you." L licked his fingers as he finished his food. They were sticky from the filling.

Raito ignored him, flipping through the pictures of a rather pretty girl wearing the latest in teen fashion. He was getting better about not reacting, something L was a bit disappointed about. "She's the one my sister likes. She's pretty," he said idly. "I didn't realize you were a fanboy." He lifted up one picture of Misa Misa in a particularly revealing outfit, with a birthmark on the side of her breast peeking through the sheer camisole circled.

"Identifying marks are important. Especially..."

"If Kira kills her in some bloody fashion and makes her unrecognizable?"

"It's not like he's never done that before. Sometimes I almost respect how creative he can be." He looked at the article on Hosuda that was on his computer screen pointedly.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," Raito said.

"I said _almost_," L replied. "There's times..." he halted. "If you could kill anyone and get away with it, would you?" It had been a question that had been plaguing him ever since learning about the miraculous way Kira seemed to operate, punishing those he deemed unworthy of life. How tempting would it be to use the power of death to get your way?

Most people would automatically deny the option, saying it was wrong. Raito, though, gave it the serious consideration L desired. "I would like to say no, but there's times..." he trailed off. "L, have you ever thought the world would be a better place without certain people?" Raito's voice was clinical, but L knew he wasn't so divorced from the topic.

It demanded an honest answer. "Of course. It's a natural human belief that the world would be better without certain undesirable elements. We could create a Utopia if we were able to eliminate them," L said. "That's idealism speaking." He shifted on his seat a bit as he started to nibble on the tip of his thumb. "However, when we try to apply it, it's not that simple. Who has the right to judge who should live and who should die? I'd like to think I'm a benefit to society, but others may disagree."

"You don't believe in the death penalty, do you?" Raito asked.

"Theoretically, no. Practically I see it as a good deterrent to horrendous crimes, but logically I believe that but killing people, we descend to their level."

"Do they have the right to burden society with their presence? The cost of incarceration, the trials, the way a victim or their family can never quite feel secure, knowing that someday that person may be free again?" Raito demanded. His hands clenched and his knuckles started to turn white from the strain. "If I could, I'd kill Kira in a heartbeat."

"I thought you said you were interested in justice," L replied, feeling his back go rigid and trying to hide it. Had he misjudged Yagami Raito? Was he indeed petty enough to become a vigilante? Had L been looking for what wasn't there out of his own desperate need?

Raito surprised him again, smiling slightly. "I am. L, justice is a nebulous concept. It's something which almost everyone agrees is noble, but few people can agree what it is. My justice is not yours. You believe that killing is always wrong; I believe it can be justified when it's in the pursuit of a higher good and done according to the law. It's an irreconcilable difference of opinion."

"Maybe not. If we can agree to the ultimate purpose, we could find the compromise."

"Sometimes there are no compromises." Raito looked at the clock, noting it was pushing nine. "Would you like me to order dinner?"

"Italian sounds good."

"Your usual?"

"Please."

The staccato exchanges were becoming familiar as they learned about each other. L pulled his thumb away from his lips, studying Raito as he pulled out a cell phone to place an order. Raito paused when he felt L's eyes on him, tilting his head in inquiry. "Anything else?"

"Raito, law is a wonderful thing, but we have to be careful of it. Sometimes we can blind ourselves to the essential truths, and use "justice" as an excuse to justify what we have done. Someone once said 'without law and order our nation cannot survive,'" L said.

Raito didn't recognize the quote. "Who?"

"Adolf Hitler."  



	7. Chapter 6: Superstar

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

Chapter 6: Superstar

_Yagami had been a neat, punctual, organized man, traits which he instilled in his son, L was later to learn._

Yagami hadn't accepted L's identity claim immediately, asking for proof, a move which L heartily approved of. L had easily provided him with details of the confidential case they had worked on together two years before right off the top of his memory. He rarely kept written records, believing their value was not worth the trace they left behind.

Convinced, Yagami had agreed to meet with L for a meeting, offering to bring his team. L hated having to expose himself to personal involvement, but the last year had been one of extreme frustration for him. It was caving to Kira, but L had vowed to find him, no matter what. His reputation was on the line.

L had arranged the use of one of his rooms in the Hilton for the occasion, scheduling a mid-morning meeting on a Wednesday. Other businessmen used the facility for such purposes, so it was wiser to avoid appearing clandestine.

Yagami's team had been pitifully few. There was him, an overly enthusiastic young man name Matsuda, and a slightly homely one called Mogi. The Kira investigation wasn't one the police would willingly admit to having open, and its funding suffered for it. L was surprised someone as highly-placed as Yagami was on the case at all.

"Are you L?" Matsuda asked. He practically bounced as he addressed Watari, who had been the one to open the door. He didn't even notice L lurking in the background, studying the three of them with careful eyes.

Watari merely shook his stately head, nodding to where L was crouching on a paisley-decked couch. Then he left, leaving the other men alone.

He smiled an acknowledgment to them. "You can call me Ryuuzaki," he said. He watched them carefully to gauge their reactions.

"You're really L?" Matsuda asked, his voice nearly breathless.

L nodded, wondering if Matsuda was really that slow. He knew he didn't look like most people would think the greatest living detective did, but facts were facts.

"I saw the work you did on the Kajishiro case, and it was amazing! I never would have thought that a bee was the murder weapon - and tracing it to the lawyer, whose cousin was a beekeeper... and the White Hall case in England! That was just amazing! I-" Apparently Matsuda was something of a fanboy. He started to extol on L's virtues.

L watched patiently as the man expressed his admiration for L's skills and tenacity. There hadn't been a case yet he hadn't solved. As Matsuda entered his sixth minute, talking so fast that L wondered how he could possibly be getting enough oxygen, Yagami finally had enough, lightly cuffing Matsuda on the head to halt the verbal flow.

"That's enough," he chided gently. "I'm sure Ryuuzaki-san is quite aware of his accomplishments."

Matsuda turned the color of L's favorite cherry cake. "I'm sorry! I just was excited to meet you..." He was off and rambling again, and L lifted his eyebrow at Yagami.

"Just let him calm down a bit. He's a good detective," Yagami said. "Just very young."

L didn't admit that he was younger than Matsuda's files stated.

Watari came back with tea, and L added a few lumps of sugar to his. Green tea was way too bitter for his tastes; he preferred Earl Grey, but it wasn't as popular in Japan. For this meeting, he would endeavor to make the Kira team comfortable. After he had their trust would be the time to do things his own way.

"Before we go any further, I want you to be aware I've already reviewed the files you've compiled. The work you're doing seems to be targeted at disproving Kira's existence," L said. He understood the authority's need to comfort its citizens, but disagreed with it. Justice was not being served, and these mens were supposed to be its sentinels. "Kira is real. Unless you can accept that, leave."

They all stayed.

* * *

It had been easy to track down the location of Misa Misa's photo shoot.

L sloughed his jacket off, casting it over his shoulder. The days were getting warmer, but it was still too cold to for the mini and tank top Misa Misa was modeling. She didn't give any sign of finding it objectionable, pouting and blowing kisses at the camera every other click. Her body shifted easily, enticingly, and L saw why she was so popular. There was a strange sensuality about her, a knowledge of her body and how to use it, mixed in with a fascinating vulnerability that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

It left him utterly cold. He never had been one for femme fatales. He'd always found women with brains more interesting - and he doubted intellectually stimulating conversations were high on Misa Misa's to do list.

She was standing on the lip of a fountain, balancing easily in three-inch polka-dotted getas. Her red leather outfit stood out against the gray marble of the mermaids, and her heavily bleached hair was striking against the blue backdrop of the sky. She leaned forward, offering the photographer a tantalizing view of her cleavage, which he eagerly took. _Click, click, click_... the regular sounds of the camera were timed by every move she made.

"Misa, doll, look toward the fountain," the photographer called.

She obliged, her skirt rising to dangerous proportions as she turned sideways, thrusting a hip back.

There was a small crowd gathered around, a few with autograph books in their hands. L had one for camouflage, but he really wasn't interested in getting a souvenir. He was hoping to see if Misa Misa had enough wits - or was stupid enough - to believe him about Kira. If she was smart, she could be persuaded. If she was dumb, she could be manipulated. L was heavily banking on the second option.

There was a wolf-whistle which Misa Misa gave a wink at, spinning agilely as she kicked off one of her shoes, which landed on the sidewalk two feet below. Leaning a bit, she dangled her bare foot in the water, grinning.

"Perfect! Look down thoughtfully," was the order.

It was a good hour before the photographer finally called for a break. Misa Misa gave an exaggerated stretch, smiling as her fans flooded toward her offering water bottles. L's sharp eyes noticed how she politely declined them, accepting one from her assistant instead. Maybe she wasn't stupid.

She did, however, let one of her male fans help her replace her shoes (which had both been discarded during the shoot) before taking his hand to step down. It was just the right level of intimacy to endear her to her fans. "Thank you!" she chirped. "You're too nice!" He could hear the hearts attached at the end of her sentences. He would wager heavily she wrote in a huge, bubbly hand in romanji, decorating her "i's" with hearts instead of dots.

The smile never left her face as she went to have her make-up touched up. Her stylist said something L couldn't hear, but the cute beret which was produced and placed artistically on Misa Misa's head made it clear that her hairstyle had been found wanting.

Her fans swirled around her like bees to a queen, watching her every movement. She took another sip of water, handed it off to her nearest groupie - a teenage girl dressed in a school uniform who nearly swooned at the gift - and sat down, opening her mouth wide to facilitate a touch-up of her cherry-red lipstick. She always wore some kind of black, and L noted the choker wrapped around the slender column of her neck. It circled it several times, looping around at an angle like a snake.

It reminded him of the ties Raito always wore to school. Raito had laughed when L had pointed out the potentially deadly uses of the garment. "L, if you think on it, everything can be used as a weapon. I could kill you with a shoe... or a sock." Raito had looked at L's bare feet pointedly.

L had never really given his clothing that much thought. Clothing was something which kept a person warm and preserved the concept of modesty. Once Raito had pointed it out, L's creative mind had provided numerous scenarios for how a person might die from fashion. As he watched Misa Misa shiver a bit, he concluded that _fashion_ and _common sense_ were mutually exclusive.

He knew he'd have to make his move soon, or waste more time watching the girl parade about. Glancing around, he concluded that now was as good a time as any.

He moved through the crowd easily, in the way only a slight male could. People ignored him, taking one look and concluding he was no one, a broke college kid with a crush on an idol. L liked the anonymity their assumptions granted him, though he shied when people bumped into him. The tactile contact was repulsive.

Misa Misa was staring into a hand mirror which a fan had provided her. He saw her cant her head at several odd and uncomfortable angles before nodding with satisfaction. She gave her thanks as she handed it back, spinning around toward the set.

L stood in her way, the autograph paper shoved into the back pocket of his jeans. He folded his hands into the front pockets, staring at her. No one was quite close enough to overhear, but eyes were watching carefully to see what Misa Misa would do. L's looks were counting against him.

She blinked at him once, twice, and then the smile on her face changed slightly. "Hello! Did you want my autograph?" she asked.

Pulling the pad out, he nodded. "Make it out to Ryuuka Hideki," he said, giving her a pen.

For the briefest of instances, she looked surprised. Most people wouldn't have noticed the slightly unbalanced look that cross her pretty face because it was quickly shuttered. She ignored the offered writing utensil to pull out some kind of gel pen that sparkled in the light. "Like the idol! Misa Misa went on a date with him a while ago - he was the nicest man! Are you related?" she asked curiously, before scribbling her name on the paper, surrounding it with a large heart. The ink was a vibrant red with gold sparkles in it.

"No, just a coincidence," he replied. Warned by her unusual reaction, L surveyed her, letting his eyes skate over her attractive curves. He had been too hasty to think her a ditz; she knew he was lying about his name. Most people couldn't, accepting that no one would choose such a famous person for a pseudonym. Her observational skills had to be above normal for her to understand that.

"It's a fun one!" she said, capping the pen and handing the signed paper over. "Excuse me, I think my shoot is about to start again."

"I was hoping to arrange some time to talk to you," he said, making a decision. Misa Misa could be used; if he saved her life in the process, all the better.

"Misa Misa is sorry... she's not interesting in dating right now," the model said. She twitched her fingers slightly, and her stylist started to inch closer, probably to offer protection or an excuse to extract her.

"It's not a date. I would like to speak to you about yesterday's edition of _Kawaii!_" he said, citing the magazine the threat had appeared in.

Her eyes flickered with a fear which was barely repressed. She glanced to the left, nodding slowly. "Are you the one who put it there?" she asked, the cuteness vanishing from her voice as her words took on a hard edge. She was still smiling, so people observing from a distance would have assumed the conversation was going well. She nodded to the stylist, who relaxed, backing off.

"No, but I'm trying to catch the person who is," he replied.

"Who are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"A friend," he said.

She pursed her lips briefly. "Wait for me by this fountain, tomorrow. We'll talk." She dropped her cute speech,

The brainless expression returned to her face and she spun away, her skirt rising just high enough to flash black panties. She looked over her shoulder briefly at L before stepping back on the stage, and back into the adoring spotlight of her fans.

He glanced at her signature, not surprised she had used romanji - and he had been right. She did write using hearts. 


	8. Chapter 7: Our Own World

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part Seven: Our Own World_

Raito had been less than pleased about L's afternoon activity. He had been in classes, and hadn't realized that L was planning on contacting one of Kira's targets. When he arrived back and L had calmly stated what he'd been up to, Raito had sat down heavily in his computer chair, taking a few deep breaths before speaking.

"If we're working together, you need to tell me everything." Raito had spoken in a controlled voice, but his irritation was practically palpable. There was something about the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes that spoke of impatience.

L almost snorted. He never told anyone everything, and the idea of starting with Raito made him almost lose his appetite. Raito was too clever by half, and letting him get too close was a risk L didn't want to take. "It was an impulse. If I didn't think it would work, I wasn't going to say anything."

"Why her? The last person you tried to help was useless, and I don't think she's going to be any better." Raito knew L had tried to convince Mizuno Shou to listen in the past, and Mizuno was now three months dead.

"Her brainlessness could be a benefit. If she can be persuaded to believe in Kira, she will be easier to work with." L didn't tell Raito his impression that Misa Misa was smarter than she let on. He would let Raito draw his own conclusions. It always helped to have a second unbiased opinion.

"I want to go with you tomorrow," Raito said. He steepled his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. The computer monitors still provided the room's only illumination, and for a second, the light reflected off his sculpted features oddly, giving him a slightly demonic look.

"Don't you have class?"

The look Raito gave in reply was sheer exasperation. "If this investigation is to proceed, I'm staying involved. Missing class will hardly affect me. Don't _you_ have class?" Raito tagged on.

It was true that L's shoddy attendance record wasn't lending itself to impressing his professors. The work he did hand in was slap-dash by his standards, but enough to convince the teachers not to drop him. It was lucky he didn't need to really study, or it could cost him time he couldn't afford for the investigation.

"I've already graduated several times. This is merely a hobby," he replied.

"And a cover."

"That too." He considered Raito's insistence at attending the meeting. Having Raito around might make Misa Misa more cautious and distrustful, but Raito had an honest - and handsome - face. It was quite possible he'd work his magic with women and manage to make her relax. "I don't see why you can't come with me, if you're willing to let your grades suffer a bit."

The smile on Raito's face made L shiver a bit inside. It was too smug for Raito's ideal student image. "It won't matter. I'm going to graduate with a perfect average. The professors wouldn't think of allowing anything else."

L understood. Raito's perfection was like a glittering diamond, multifaceted and entrancing. He had been polished until he was flawless, shaped into someone that was nearly too perfect to be real. Had L not learned that Raito had a relatively short temper, he might have been suckered by the illusion. Others were convinced that Raito could do no wrong, which gave him amazing latitude.

It wasn't time to think on it. Raito was one of the few people that interested L, but he was more interested in solving the case. "That may be so," he conceded. "Are you hungry?"

"A bit. What do you feel like tonight?"

"I might cook," L said. He was fidgety and needed some kind of outlet.

Raito gave him a wary look. L hadn't given them food poisoning, but he was fond of not following the recipe. He'd discovered he rather liked puttering around in the kitchen. L found his creations enjoyable (though not always palatable). Raito wasn't adventurous enough to appreciate culinary creation. L wasn't willing to admit his cooking was just a few steps above Raito's toxic concoctions.

"How about Chinese?" Raito asked, digging out his cell to place an order.

L gave him the puppy eyes, wide and injured. "You don't trust me, Raito-kun?" He even managed to make his voice break slightly at the end, a facade neither of them bought but both had fun with.

"Not in the kitchen." Raito was already dialing.

"I've been practicing." Now he looked down at his feet, staring at his toes.

Raito sighed a bit, not moved by how utterly rejected L was acting, but resigned that arguing was pointless. "Just... avoid the paprika this time?" he conceded in defeat.

L's smile was brilliant in return, and he rose to lope off to the kitchen, his slouching posture giving him a fluid grace that seemed at odds. He heard the sound of movement from the living room, and then the pounding of the keyboard. Raito was taking the time to get work done, something L liked. Time was not something which was to be wasted.

Their kitchen was small, and there were dishes in the sink from breakfast. He was going to have to convince Raito to do them, or else they might just sit there until interesting life forms sprang into existence. L deftly cleared a space on the counter, rubbing it down with a warm cloth before retrieving vegetables out of the kitchen.

He had discovered pleasure in the simple act of food preparation. It allowed him the chance to sort through the information he'd collected during the day while still being constructive. He cut through the tofu, wiped the knife, and then turned to the green onions. He sometimes wished he could prepare a good thick steak, but while in Japan, he ate as the Japanese did. It was a good thing they happened to like sweet things or else he might have gone through sugar withdrawal.

He used canned broth, unwilling to try his luck too far. There was a hotplate they hadn't used yet - a gift from Raito's concerned mother - which he brought out to the living room, setting it on the table. Raito seemed engrossed in whatever he was reading, and L had to repressed the urge to go look. Raito was probably reviewing the information L had already gone over. He plugged the plate in, and was turning back to the kitchen when Raito cleared his throat. L turned to see him with a pen in his hand, twirling it.

"Find something?" he asked curiously. That pen habit was annoying.

"I think you should look at this," Raito said, angling away from the computer just a bit.

L raised his eyebrow. "Yes?"

Raito begin typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The screen flickered, and an article in a news archive was pulled. An obituary.

L looked over Raito's shoulder so he could examine it. "Do you think this is a Kira victim?" The face was of a pretty young women dressed in blue and orange. "Takeshi Momo... model, died in a car accident a year ago..." It didn't seem like Kira's style.

"Now look at this." He minimized the window, bringing up a new window.

"Photographer Fujisawa Junko, dead at 33 of the flu... did they work together?" L tried to figure out the connection.

"That's not the connection. Next is Yuji Senji..." This time the screed reflected a middle-aged man. "Accidental poisoning."

"Let me guess... worked in the fashion industry?"

"A promoter. It seems that people around Misa Misa have a tendency to come to unfortunate ends."

L blinked slowly. He hadn't bothered to really _dig_ around Misa Misa, and was now feeling a bit embarrassed. He had, originally, done thorough background checks, but after a while it became clear that there was no connections between the victims. Kira was a whimsical killer. This... was an organized pattern he had missed. "Do you have printouts?" It was always easier to work from hard copies. 

Raito gestured to a stack of sheets. "It's pretty basic. Takeshi was in competition for the Kiss! Campaign. Fujisawa had filed a complaint to Misa Misa's agency about her professionalism, while Yuji was known for groping models. He did have some contact with Misa Misa before the Kiss! thing took off."

"Are there more?" He didn't want to start drawing conclusions without a firmer foot to stand on. There were strange coincidences in the world, he knew.

"I still have more to do," Raito admitted, "but I think it's definitely worth investigating. If it is a trend..."

Kira hadn't left overt patterns in his kills before. One week, he'd be interested in politics, while the next he'd off people for owning polluting businesses. Kira was never _personal_ about things. L thought on it. There were two possible solutions that came immediately to mind: either Kira was interested in Misa Misa's career, or...

"What do you think?" L asked.

Raito was always happy to share his opinions. In a few years, he'd learn more discretion. "Misa Misa might be Kira, or have the same powers. Or Kira's a fan of hers who might be jaded now about the PETA thing - or that could be an excuse. Maybe she's started dating someone Kira doesn't like."

"Jealous stalker?"

"Maybe." Raito's tone indicated doubt. "I don't see a stalker going after her, now. He'd just threaten whatever was in the way. As long as Misa Misa is alive, the stalker would have a chance."

"There's always exceptions."

Raito shrugged, not denying the possibility. "It just doesn't feel right."

L knew the value of instinct, and trusted Raito's. "Most likely. If Misa Misa is Kira, you shouldn't be giving her your real name. Maybe I should just-"

"I'm going. If she is Kira, then I want to bring her to justice."

_Justice._ The word built up their wall, and they stared at each other, not flinching. They couldn't agree on what it was, but they were both seeking the illusive ideal. For now, they would have to work together. The other options had been exhausted.

L finally sighed. "I have something for you, then." He went to the room which had been designated as "his," retrieving a package he had Watari design and returned quickly.

Raito looked in confusion at the package L dropped in his lap. "What is this?" he asked.

"Open it and see."

Raito pulled the brown flap of the thick manilla envelope open slowly, his mouth opening slightly as he saw what was inside. He pulled out a birth certificate, quirking an eyebrow. "Asahi Raito," he read. "That's poetic."

"I found it amusing," L agreed. "I've found the best identities contain part of the truth."

Raito flipped through the papers slowly. The envelop contained the documentation for an entire life. "You were expecting this."

"I considered the possibility. It always pays to be prepared." The smell of the broth caught L's attention. "I think dinner is ready."

They turned away from their work, both realizing that working without rest led to tired minds. Moving over to the table, Raito sunk into seiza easily while L sat more casually. Raito stared at the simmering broth distrustfully.

"It's sukiyaki." L stated the obvious as he tossed some meat in with onions.

"Really." The word was expressive in its very tonelessness. Raito watched as L cooked his own meal, but made no move to the food.

"You should eat."

"There's green specs floating in it."

"I added a few spices. I love oregano, don't you?"

Raito turned a bit green himself. "Not particularly." He excused himself less than five minutes later after tasting the meat and finding it wanting. L knew Raito would be raiding the cupboards for snacks later that night.

Raito went back to his computer, the sound of his breathing the only thing that prevented L from forgetting him. L ate slowly, working matters over in his mind.

Raito had found something he'd missed. Raito had proven his worth. Now L had to respond, or else lose his credibility. When he finished eating, he cleared the table, then headed over to the machine which he used. Pulling a chair over, he nodded at Raito's look of acknowledgment and the glint of challenge on his face.

They worked companionable late into the night, the hum of the computer under typing fingers the only sound. 


	9. Chapter 8: Dash

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part 8: Dash_

As always, L arrived early and alone.

They had worked out a plan that morning, and L had managed to get Raito to agree that it would be wise for him to hang back. In twelve minutes, Raito would be coming, sketchbook in hand, as he made a pretext of drawing the fountain. It was a popular place for would-be artists, with two or three usually lingering around. One more would hardly be noticed.

L found himself idly wondering if Raito had any artistic talent. Most likely.

He didn't know if Misa Misa would be late, or decide that going to the meeting was a waste of time. Perhaps the police would show up instead, ready to arrest him. She might have decided he was a demented stalker or that he really _was_ Kira. The thought had to have crossed her mind.

This meeting depended on her willingness to take a risk. He wasn't sure if she was brave enough - but she might be desperate enough. He'd pegged her as a vain creature, a girl whose survival instincts might outweigh common thinking. Meeting with a stranger when you had a death threat hanging over your head like the sword of Damocles wasn't the smartest thing.

He almost didn't recognize when she came. Her clothing, that of a high school girl, wasn't an exceptional disguise, but the short-brown wig and oval glasses did a lot to change the shape of her face. She was still attractive, but the stunning beauty which had made her famous was well-camouflaged under a bit of geekiness.

It was her posture that gave her away. She carried herself with too much confidence, the kind of pride only a beautiful woman knew. The lift of her head was that of someone used to screaming "look at me!" through body language. Even when attempting to appear anonymous, eyes were drawn to her.

She was a good actress, though. She waved when she caught sight of him, dashing over in a hurry. The Hello Kitty purse she was carrying swung against her side as she came to an abrupt halt beside him. "Hideki-kun! I'm so glad to see you!" she gushed. She kissed his cheek familiarly, and he knew that had anyone seen them, they would have assumed they were dating. It was very, very clever of her, and put L even more on guard.

"It's good to see you too," he said. "Would you like to feed the birds?" he asked, pulling a packet of breadcrumbs out of his pocket.

"That sound like fun!" She smiled and took a small handful. He noted that she'd even bothered to change her nail polish from fire engine red to a more subdued french manicure. With a wide, sweeping arm she scattered it at their feet, attracting pigeons by the dozens. Slyly she sidled closely to him, so that their thighs were touching intimately. It was a good excuse to use soft, quiet voices which wouldn't be overheard. L was not comfortable with the familiarity. He had personal space issues, but drawing away would be suspicious.

He noticed Raito out of the corner of his eyes, setting up an easel to sketch the fountain. Raito had wisely chosen a forty-five degree angle so he could observe without appearing to spy. No one else was paying them any particular attention, so L decided it would be safe enough to proceed. "Amane-" it was a better idea to address her by her last name, it wasn't that uncommon, "I'm concerned that the letter is Kawaii! Is real."

Her hand stilled, poised to spread more food. "I am, too." She hung her head just a bit, the posture defensive.

"You believe in Kira?" he asked. It was interesting, since few people would be open in their belief of such a boogeyman.

"Kira is real," Misa Misa said. There was genuine fear in her eyes behind the fake glasses. "I don't know why he's after me, but he's going to kill me." Her voice wavered slightly on the word 'kill.' "I don't know how to stop him."

The answer seemed simple enough to L, albeit distasteful. "Are you thinking about dropping the campaign?" L asked.

She shook her head fervently in the negative, a few crumbs slipping through her fingers as she make a fist. "I can't. If I do, I'll never work again - and I love being a model." She studied one of the birds. "For me, it's better to die than to live a life without being adored."

It made L wonder about her priorities. As long as someone was alive, they could change their circumstances. He very much subscribed to the philosophy, "he who runs away lives to fight another day." If someone died, nothing could be fixed. Dead was dead.

He chose not to argue with her. "If I offer to help you find Kira, will you do what I say?"

"Who are you?" she asked. It was neither an acceptance or denial. "You're not one of my fans. You don't even look at my chest - and you haven't tried to grope me or rub against me."

It was a touch disturbing that was how Misa Misa drew her conclusions about people. He realized she had been testing him, in her own way, by sitting so closely. He reached into his pocket, the one on his free side, producing another pack of crumbs. "I'm a friend, I suppose."

"My friends have names," she replied quickly.

"You can call me L."

There was a slight hitch in her breathing, then her smile was back. "So you're L..." Her eyes gave him a long, slow survey, starting at his feet.

"You believe me?" The fame he'd won by publically coming out and declaring there was a Kira had earned him scorn, but recognition in connection with the Kira case. It wouldn't be surprising to find someone using his name to get the attention of the model.

"Do I have any other choice?" She was bitter now.

"It's your best option," he agreed. She was cornered, and smart enough to realize that. The tension that set her shoulders spoke of nearly crippling pressure.

"I'll do whatever you ask me. If we can find Kira before he kills me..."

L pulled the watch off his wrist, carefully setting it. The digital numbers flashed as they counted backwards. "Keep this with you."

"What is it?" The watch looked like a knock-off that was hocked around some of the tourist areas.

"It's a specially designed device that will allow me to monitor your movements and check your vital signs. It also serves as a communicator - if you need me, just push the knob twice."

The watch was too big for her wrist, but she strapped it on regardless. It made her bones appear even more fragile. "And this will help how?"

"It's a start. I'll be working to identify Kira, but I need you to watch the people around you. It's possible that someone will be observing you - Kira might want to witness you in person before killing you. We're not sure what his range is, but it's possible that he needs to be in a certain range. Our evidence has shown Kira needs to see both a picture and the victim's full name. Pictures..." he trailed off, shrugging. As a model, her face was famous. "Your agency's Web site displays your real name."

"I never thought it would be a problem," she said, brushing the last bits of bread off her hands. "You have a week to save my life," she said. "That's not much time."

"No, it's not - but I'm the best chance you have," L said. "I'll be in touch."

Misa Misa nodded slowly. "If I think of anything, I'll let you know." Then she rose to her feet, brushing another kiss against his cheek. "I'm so sorry! I have to go meet Kiko-chan for a study session." Her voice was pitched just loud enough to carry. She clutched her handbag in one hand and took off at a quick pace, the sound of her Mary Janes echoing a bit on the bricked sidewalk.

It had been an interesting meeting, L reflected as he went in the opposite way, taking an indirect route back to his apartment, passing through two shopping plazas and switching trains twice. He always took a roundabout way to his residence, just in case someone decided to follow him.

The small piece of lead Raito had set in the door was still unbroken, L thought with relief as he unlocked the door with a slightly-battered bronze key issued by their landlord. He knew too well how easily the lock could be picked. It was a paltry security measure by his standards, but it was better than nothing. Most people would have a small sheet of paper that balanced on the door. The handle was in the appropriate position as well, the final of the three precautions. Some called it paranoia; L called it "thinking ahead." Luckily Raito agreed.

He dug an unopened contained of pudding from the fridge, topping it off with a squirt of whipped cream as he headed for his computer. Flicking the screen on, he checked the results of the computer searches he'd been running.

He hadn't been able to draw a conclusion about Misa Misa, and that made him unhappy. He usually was able to peg someone's motivations within minutes of meeting them, but the model was different, one second an innocent being blamed for something not her fault, the next a canny negotiator. There was those string of deaths which Raito had found out, and L had helped him add to. Eight unusual deaths around Misa Misa in the last sixteen months.

It had started with the men who had killed her parents in a car accident. They had gotten off without charges, despite having blood tests show alcohol content high enough to fuel a frat party. It was the kind of thing men with power were able to do, something L acknowledged as a fact of life. They had all died together, one after another, of heart attacks. L had noted two of them in his possible Kira kills, but Misa Misa's connection added an interesting angle he hadn't known existed.

Was she Kira? Was it possible there could be a second person with Kira's uncanny abilities? Or maybe even more?

The way Kira seemed to have power over death itself had always unnerved L. He believed that the universe worked on several defined principles, one of those being that there had to be an explanation for everything. There was no magic; science would explain everything in the end. He just needed to catch Kira and figure out how he was willing people to die. He licked the spoon slowly as he ran through the possibilities.

Raito came in half an hour later. After setting his notepad down and putting his slippers on, he headed directly for L. "What do you think?" he asked without preamble.

"She's genuinely scared, but she's hiding something." L turned his impressions over in his head.

"I agree. Her body language was tense, but protective. She could have just set you up with the police had she thought you were indeed a stalker of some kind. She took a risk, but that indicates that she thinks Kira is real."

"The question is why does she believe in Kira?"

"I think the string of deaths surrounding her might account for that." Raito had a dry sense of humor, one which fit a policeman well. The slight macabre nature to it appealed to L's own warped nature.

"That might be." L was quiet as he tried to figure out his next question. "Do you think it's possible that Kira might not know she's Kira?"

"It's possible Amane might not be aware of it, since we've yet to figure out how Kira kills, but unlikely. There's the threats."

"I wasn't saying it was Misa Misa," L replied.

"You used 'she,'" Raito pointed out.

It was a slip, something L wasn't accustomed to making. He was getting comfortable enough with Raito to occasionally not re-think his thoughts before speaking. "I did, didn't I?" 


	10. Chapter 9: Ten

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

_

* * *

Part Nine: Ten  
_

_The first time he spoke about Yagami Soichiro about his son had been on Raito's graduation day._

Working around people made L irritable and set him on edge. He wasn't used to having anyone around, and the constant buzz of their presences distracted his usual unbreakable focus.

Mogi and Matsuda were both sincere and enthusiastic, but L found himself creating things of interest for them to investigate _away_ from the Kira Command Center, as his hotel room was now called. The work they were doing was useful, but it probably could have done more easily with a phone. He merely cited security concerns the one time Matsuda had hesitantly questioned a rather bizarre assignment involving a Laundromat, a plane terminal and Shibuya.

He didn't have the same problem with Yagami. The older man actually helped L think, offering suggestions which were well-thought out and logical. He knew how to keep quiet and when to speak.

He reminded him of Watari, in a way. The man was serious and devoted to his work, competent and caring. He was able to completely ignore L's apparent youth, deferring to him without being servile. He was interested in results, and didn't care whom he had to work with to get them.

Unlike Watari, though, he possessed little sense of humor. Occasionally L would say something biting, and while Yagami did catch on, he didn't find it amusing. L estimated he would die of a stress-induced heart attack by the time he was sixty, even without Kira's help.

They spent hours together, him working on the computer as Yagami puzzled over the printouts. Yagami was old-school enough to want to see everything in black and white, for while he was familiar with technology, he was not entirely comfortable with it. L tried to imagine what life was like before computers and found himself shuddering.

It was a Friday, and Yagami had arrived on schedule at nine on the dot. L, who was running a virus scan on his computer as he did three times a day, smiled a slight welcome. "I thought your son was graduating today?" L asked, even though he already knew he was right.

"I'm not going to ask how you know," Yagami said. He and L had never really talked about their personal lives. L wasn't the kind of man who welcomed curiosity about himself, and tended to respect others' privacy in return.

"Matsuda let something slip. He needs to work on his discretion a bit," L said, pulling out a piece of green tea pocky. It was early for most people, but L never found it too early or too late for sweets. He'd been up for twenty-two hours already, so he figured he could call it a snack either way.

"He knows how to keep his mouth shut when it counts." Yagami was always fiercely protective of the young investigator. Perhaps it was that very protectiveness that was keeping Matsuda from reaching his full potential.

"We may never know if it matters until too late. It's best to always keep your cards close to the chest," L replied. He sucked the coating off the pocky before munching on it slowly.

"Perhaps." Yagami loosened his tie as he pushed his dress-jacket off, claiming the comfortable chair that he had become accustomed to. L had both a laptop and desktop currently running those blasted scans, with soft classical muzak playing on a CD players in the background. He was particularly fond of Chopin, the precise structure appealing to him. He tapped his fingers impatiently, telling himself he had to schedule separate maintenance times for them - something he knew he would promptly forget.

Yagami started to flip through the latest Kira reports, his hands steady. L's insatiable curiosity finally got the better of him. "Why aren't you there?"

"Because he asked me to come here, instead," Yagami's smile was regretful. "Raito said that I can't afford to waste any time."

L could respect that kind of thinking. He'd never seen the point in ceremonies, finding them hollow. "That's very mature of him. Isn't he the speaker?"

"Yes." A bit of paternal pride sparkled on Yagami's face. "He's the top student in Japan this year."

L was never impressed with that kind of accomplishment, but he mouthed the appropriate words. "Congratulations, you must be proud."

Yagami's smile faded away. "He did it all himself. I can take little credit."

"I disagree. Obviously your parenting skills are more than adequate, to turn out such a child."

"I wonder," Yagami's voice was soft. "It seems he made up his own mind to do well, and I merely watched."

L supposed it was time to ask a question which had been preying on his mind. "Have you ever considered that Kira could be a teenager, someone your son's age?"

Yagami coughed in surprise, his expression shocked. "You mean a child?"

"Certainly not. A teenager is not a child, despite what their parents may want to believe. They have the same thinking process as an adult, though not the experience. Imagine what your son could do, if he had the power to kill people from afar."

Righteous indignation colored Yagami's face, and he lost control of his temper at the implication that _his_ son would _ever_ have anything in common with a serial killer. "My son would never-"

"Hypothetically speaking, Yagami-san. Your son is bright, earnest and very young, from everything I know about him. He, like most young people, probably believes that the world should be a fair place. Such a silly idea, but they've yet to learn that there are no are no absolute truths."

Yagami took a slow, rattling breath before straightening his glasses, his blunt fingers steady despite a heightening of his color. "I see where you're heading."

"Do you?" L angled himself for, balancing on his heels. "You might be able to accept intellectually that Kira could be a youngster, but I don't think you're ready to accept it emotionally. I'm not, really, either. It'd be annoying if Kira was younger than I." L was used to being at the top, and he would hate to have been thwarted by someone like that.

Yagami was quiet, and L watched as the older man offered a sad, wistful smile. "It's always hard to admit that your experience can't overcome someone's natural brilliance. Tell me, Ryuuzaki, how did your parents cope with you?"

"I don't have parents," L said, disclosing more than he usually did.

"Ah." Yagami's eyes didn't contain pity, but some deep emotion that L hated just as much. Understanding. "I wonder if they would have understood, had they raised you."

"Yagami-san...?"

"My son is smarter than I, Ryuuzaki. He's been that way since he was eight - he's the one who taught me how to use a computer. As he was explaining HTML and C+. I suddenly realized that he wasn't just smart - he was a genius. We'd had him run the whole battery of tests before, and while he'd always scored off the charts, I didn't really _understand_ until then."

He looked down at his hands. "So yes, I can accept a teenager could be Kira. Heaven forbid, I could accept that _Raito_ is smart enough to elude investigators for over a year - but I know my son. I know he would never do such a thing."  


* * *

They had argued without raising their voices about the right approach for Misa Misa's protection. It was unusual for L to argue with anyone, but he found Raito's pig-headedness annoying. L thought there was about ten percent chance of her being Kira, greater odds than anyone he'd come across yet. He was half-prepared to bug her home, her agency and have her followed by one of his lackeys if it would bring him any closer to Kira.

Raito was more cautious, maybe because he hadn't been tracking Kira as long and didn't know L's level of frustration. He had pointed out that it was illegal to use those techniques in Japan, and descending to a criminal's methodology would merely be fueling a vicious cycle. "Besides, if we stalk her, she's not going to trust us."

"Then what do you propose we do?" L asked sharply. He already had placed a tracking device on her, and he wasn't in the mood for a philosophical conversation on the right to privacy.

"We work with her. If she's Kira, she won't be killing herself. If she's not, we might figure out how Kira is killing people. If we're lucky, and she's innocent, we can stop Kira before he kills her."

L conceded reluctantly, before making his own demand. "I'll still be our contact," L said. "She's already met me." He didn't want Misa Misa to meet Raito. He didn't trust her an inch, and if forced to choose, he would save Raito's life over hers. He owed it to Yagami, aside from Raito being a much more worthwhile person. All life was precious, but some were more important to him than others.

Raito had seen the wisdom in remaining in reserves, although he hadn't liked it. "I won't be as efficient if I had to remain in the shadows." His protest was voiced levelly, but there was resentment simmering in his expression. He didn't like taking second place to anyone.

"The first thing any commander learns is that sitting back and letting his troops do the work is incredibly hard." His current snack sat practically forgotten on his desk, a kiss of dark chocolate pooled on top of lemon cake. Only one bite was missing, with the fork set next to it almost reverently.

"So you're my foot soldier, then?"

"Hardly."

Tense silence hung between them, before Raito nodded tersely before taking off to the kitchen. The sound of dishes returned, with Raito obviously intending on cooking something. L was a bit amused, although a very small part of his mind worried about what atrocities Raito would commit on the defenseless food. It seemed Raito was sulking.

Time for a slight concession, then. "Raito-kun?" he called. The sound of a metal pot "banged!" against the counter top, and Raito ignored him.

Shaking his head, he reminded himself that despite his intellectual maturity, Raito was only a teenager. He sighed, wondering why he was getting so sentimental, and went to the kitchen. "Raito-kun?"

Raito looked up, his expression serene. The unevenly-cut carrots in front of him looked like they'd been brutally attacked. "Do you need something?" he asked levelly.

"I was wondering if you would be up for a game of tennis?" It was the best peace offering L could give.

Raito nearly cut himself as his attention was distracted. "You play?"

"A bit." He shrugged casually. "I know you were national level in junior high, but I hope I could give you a bit of a workout."

"Physical activity to vent frustration?" Raito asked in an amused voice. The slight smile that pulled at his lips was charming. He could tell Raito was getting ready to pound him into the ground. "Fine. Let me change."

"I'll take care of the... food," L agreed. Hopefully he'd be able to convince Raito to go out for gyodan after the match.

L didn't bother to change, finding his own loose clothing acceptable. It took Raito ten minutes to get ready. He emerged from his room wearing a pink-striped tennis shirt that made L wince a bit. L wasn't much for fashion, but Raito's taste was questionable at best.

Raito noticed his slightly sour expression, and offered a smirk. "My sister got it for me a couple years ago for my birthday."

"It's very pink."

"It's comfortable," Raito replied, "which is what matters."

L understood the rational, but the shirt bothered him. He wasn't one to talk about acceptable fashion, but the shirt was just plain awful. It wasn't worth arguing about, L decided. "I suppose."

Raito merely raised an eyebrow challengingly before going to the hall closet to pull out an athletic bag. "Shall we go?" 


	11. Chapter 10: Gardenia

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part 10: Gardenia _While Raito slept, L decided to get some work done. There were things he hadn't bothered doing which he should get on top of. He had promised to protect Misa Misa to his fullest abilities, and it was a promise he intended to keep.

His computer hummed companionably as he tapped his fingers, deciding what to do first. In a tiny corner of his mind, he would admit to himself that he had no clue where to start. The problem with the Kira investigation was that he couldn't figure out how the murders were being committed - and without knowing the cause, it was impossible to stop them.

Cause equaled effect.

He and Raito had tossed ideas around, about viruses or subtle poisons. Maybe, Raito had suggested with a distinct lack of enthusiasm for the idea, someone was doing something with hypnotic suggestion. Weren't there studies that led to self-fulfilling prophecies? If you told someone that something would happen off enough, they were likely to make it come true. Never underestimate the power of belief, Raito had pointed out.

L disliked the idea, but was willing to take it a step further.

The powers of the human mind were still unknown, so maybe there was some kind of psychic ability involved. Maybe a vague form of telekinetic power. At this point, he was prepared to rule nothing out. What had Sherlock Holmes said? _When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains--however improbable--must be the truth._

It was infuriating to be descending to such wild hypothesis, but he had no other answer.

He stared at the picture of flowers on the wall - _Gardenia jasminoides_ he noted without much interest - and realized once again, he was running in circles. He should take what he knew, and work from there rather than indulge in speculation. It would be best, he decided, to switch positions a bit. It was time to think like Kira, and figure out how Kira had decided on Misa Misa as his victim. He was curious about the deaths around her, but his gut instinct led him to believe that she wasn't the one.

There was something sly about her, something he mistrusted. He believed that she would be capable of killing those in her way, in spite of her innocuous pose. He didn't see her finding mass-murdering people interesting, however. She was too selfish to care about what happened to others.

The secret of L's genius was he was that he had a criminal mind. He knew exactly how to think like a murderer, how to go about constructing the so-called "perfect crime." He would have been very, very good at being a serial killer, if he had any inclination that way. Creating a perfect crime would have been too simple for him to hold any interest in it. It was much more entertaining to find the flaws in other people's "perfect crimes."

The basics of all murders were the same: motive, opportunity and means, which he privately thought of as the "MOM" complex. Even a crime of passion would follow that basic pattern, but L realized that Kira was a far more calculating personality. Kira wasn't emotionally invested in his crimes, unless a sense of pride, self-righteousness and egotism counted. L understood those very well, being afflicted with the same emotions.

So... if he was Kira, he had the ability to kill people by knowing their name and face. That was means, and he would assume opportunity. The trick, then, was to find the motive. Even if Kira was insane, there should be some kind of rational, skewed though it may be, to the selection.

_What made Misa Misa special?_ he wondered. _If I was Kira, how would I decide that she was worthy of my time?_ He cracked his knuckles slowly, hearing the pop of his joints as he considered. _Assuming, of course, that there's an actual logic to my thinking._

L bit his lip for a second, before taking a bite of the flower-shaped cookie Raito's mother had sent the day before. The white-colored sugar cookies were lopsided and slightly burnt, but they still tasted good.

Properly fueled, he left the cookie between his teeth as he started another search. The connection Raito had made between Misa and the series of unfortunate deaths made him wonder if Kira had made the same connection. He needed to think like Kira, and see what information would have sent him after the budding starlet.

A few taps of the keys had him started. The hotel Misa Misa was staying in was pitiful in its attempts to protect its residents. Despite a $5,000 a night price tag, L was still easily able to slip into the computer system to find out what room she was in and check on what she'd been ordering through room service. She seemed to be on some kind of vegetarian diet, he noted absent-mindedly.

He had promised to try to protect her, and he knew one thing he could do now. He was a good hacker; but there were still people out there who were better. He carefully began to construct a series of fire walls that would at least slow someone down enough for him to get a track on them if they should bother to come knocking.

From there, he traveled to Misa Misa's agency, hacking into their records. Getting the financials was child's play, and he could have cried - had he been the type - at how inadequate the security was. The talent manager used her child's birthday as a password, and he set about copying every file available onto his spare hard drive. It took less than five minutes. Then he set up security there as well.

He knew that these were most likely futile gestures, but at least he was being constructive. He hated the helplessness Kira invoked in him. He had five days to save a life, and he wasn't going to fail this time. He was sick of Kira taking all the victories.

He heard the click of the door, and turned his head as Raito walked into the room. The bedroom door hung open behind him, and he was only wearing a pair of sleeping shorts. L checked the clock again, noting it was 3:37 a.m., well before Raito's designated time to rise.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his voice still carrying its customary flatness despite a slight niggling of concern. Raito was not the type to deviate from schedule without good reason. Raito hated appearing anywhere less then perfectly groomed and in control of himself.

"No, no..." Raito said, his words still a bit slurred from sleep. "Just a bad dream."

"Want to talk about it?" He knew that was the standard question in this situation. Raito, L thought privately, looked better mussed. It softened his usually hard personality into something that approached cute and cuddly. His fingers itched to smooth down the flyaway strands that danced around Raito's face.

"Maybe," Raito said, his voice becoming stronger as his mental facilities finished awakening. A hand brushed through his hair, returning it to some kind of order. "I just need to sort it out. I'm going to get some hot chocolate - would you like some?" It was a rhetorical question, and they both knew it. L never said no to anything sweet.

"That would be nice," L replied. He watched as Raito vanished into the kitchen, trying to keep a rein on his curiosity.

Raito was gone for several minutes, and L listened for the microwave's beep. When it came, he rose out of his computer chair, moving onto the couch. Raito always preferred to be seated closer to the door in any situation (good for planning escapes, L recognized), and he left space there. L thought that if someone did decide to barge in, Raito would make a good human shield.

The two white mugs Raito returned with were second-hand, like much of their furniture. It was the way most college kids lived - by mooching - so L was satisfied with the quality. The cocoa, made from an instant mix, was amazingly palatable for something made by Raito.

They drank slowly, savoring the warmth, and L watched as Raito's mind focused inwardly. The dark eyes were brilliant in the lamplight, and L wished, not for the first time, that he could read that mind. His own mind was intriguing, but Raito was just as bright, just as thoughtful.

"What do you think of dreams?" Raito asked, breaking the comfortable silence. He was turning the cup around in his hands, swishing the remains of his drink carefully.

A simple question deserved a simple answer. "They're ways our minds sort through ideas. Some people believe them to hold prophetic warnings, but I doubt that's possible, since time is linear."

Raito chuckled, and turned the mug around in his hand. "That's a rather logical point of view."

"I'm a rather logical personality. So are you."

Raito shrugged, unable to deny it. "I still have bad dreams."

L did, too, but rarely remembered them. Within moments of waking, his mind would shut out any disturbing image, locking it into that safe place called the subconscious. "It happens. What was yours about?"

The cup shifted back and forth. Raito always had to keep his hands busy. "I dreamt that I was Kira," Raito said. "I dreamt that I had the power to kill anyone I wanted to."

"And did you?" L would have wagered great sums on the answer. He knew Raito well enough to realize he wouldn't be above murder in the right circumstances.

"Yes." Raito didn't sound shaken. Instead, there was a strange sound of confidence in pride ringing in his voice. "I knew I had the power to make the world a better place, and I did."

L wondered what he would do if he had somehow been granted the ability to kill. He leaned forward, so most of his weight was balanced on his toes, as he considered what to say. "Is the world really a better place if you get rid of people who don't see things your way?"

"I think the world is a better place without certain elements of society."

"What give you the right to choose?" L asked.

"Someone has to be the one to make the decisions," Raito said. "It should be the most capable person."

It wasn't Raito's ego that spoke, but an honest assessment of fact. Or, that's what L knew Raito believed. He'd suspected for a long time that Raito had something of a god complex. It takes one to know one, after all.

What would the world be like, if he and Raito ended up on opposite sides? The thought at once thrilled and terrified him. "Don't get too proud, Raito. It's the kiss of death to objectivity." He knew what he had to say.

"You're one to talk." Raito had apparently made the same realizations as L.

"Whoever said I was objective?" L smiled, then drained the rest of his chocolate. "I think it's naturally to dream about Kira, and what you'd do in his place. He killed your father, after all."

"I don't want to descend to his level," he replied quietly. Raito started to set his cup down on the floor, but stopped. "Would you like the rest of this?" he asked.

L greedily snagged the remains of Raito's drink, not surprised to find it more than half-full. "Thanks. There's a difference between vengeance and justice, Raito-kun."

"A piece of paper?" Raito asked a bit sarcastically. "Justice is vengeance condoned by society, L."

L turned the cup so he could drink from the opposite side Raito had used. No need to share germs. "Maybe in the scheme of things, society is the one that is corrupt. We lock people up who don't conform to our moral standards. We tell them _killing is wrong_ but will make exceptions in extraordinary circumstances. Morals are flexible things, since not all societies share the same beliefs, however most societies believe that killing is fundamentally wrong."

"Is it?"

"Usually." For some season, Raito's drink tasted better than his own had. "It's the time when killing becomes the best of all options that we need to worry. Tell me, Raito-kun, would you kill a man for breaking into a house for $500?"

"No."

"How about breaking into a home and stealing $500,000? Committing Rape while he was at it? How about killing the woman who shoots him to save herself from being raped? What if he shoots her instead to keep from being shot? It's a matter of degree, and there's something in us that says eventually, we can justify killing. It doesn't make it right, though."

Raito rose to his feet, looking at the clock, before turning his back on L. "No, it doesn't. Two wrongs don't make a right - but sometimes there's nothing that can be done but the lesser of two evils."

L watched as he left, making a mental note to keep a closer eye on his companion. Raito would crack, he realized. There was only so much of this he could take. If he and L didn't catch Kira soon, L might just have to shove Raito out of the investigation before Raito completely lost his way. 


	12. Chapter 11: In a Good Mood

** Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part 11: In a Good Mood _

Four days left, and no breaks. If he'd been the type, L would have been pulling out his hair. Instead, he allowed himself the luxury of digging into his stash of Godiva chocolates and gorging. The things were expensive, and though money wasn't an issue, he knew he shouldn't eat three boxes in a sitting. Even his metabolism had problems dealing with that many calories.

He'd been watching Raito more closely since they'd had that discussion about what Raito would have done if he was Kira. L was grateful on reflection that Raito hadn't managed to get him to confess what he'd do with the power to kill just by knowing someone's name and face. L didn't want to think on that; he didn't know what he'd do. While he found the idea of murder reprehensible, it was seductive to think he could cause the world to change without consequence to himself.

He was restless, not an uncommon feeling for him, but the chocolate made him jittery. He could feel his body shaking with excess energy, begging for some kind of release. He supposed he could challenge Raito to a tennis game when he got back from classes, but it wasn't that kind of energy. It was a desire to go do _something_ productive. He'd been stuck on this case for so long that he was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake.

Then he'd think of Misa Misa and knew he was making progress, however slow. His instincts - and they were good ones - told him that things were about to come to a head. He just needed to be patient, and he'd - they'd - finally get a big break.

It was nearly noon and he went over to the window to glance out along the street. The sun was currently hidden by clouds, and the buildings seemed even more tired than usual. This part of Tokyo had been re-built after the war, hasty, boxy construction that offered little beauty for the eye. L wasn't the type to note it with more than a passing thought. To him, buildings should be functional.

There was no one suspicious loitering outside, and everything seemed to be working the way it should be. Down the street, he could see a garbage collector going about his rounds, and there was a trio of schoolboys dressed in uniforms loitering on a corner. They were probably playing hooky. He'd never understood the attraction of skipping out on work or school until lately. His frustration had built and built and even tennis matches against Raito weren't a sufficient outlet.

He should get some exercise, he thought. Even if he just took a walk it might help alleviate some of the damage he'd done to his body with those chocolates. He needed to do something physical, get moving and maybe it'd help kick his brain into the proper gear. It took an immense amount of willpower to force himself across the room toward the door. The first steps were always the hardest, especially right after eating.

He shoved his sneakers on, wiggling his toes inside their confines. He hated wearing anything on his feet no matter how comfortable and well-designed they were. He had poor arches which made shoes the equivalence of a strange medieval torture device. It might have been better if he deigned to wear socks, but he found they made his feet sweat unbearably.

Grabbing his keys, he checked to make sure he had his cell phone (registered to someone else), identification (fake, of course), his wallet (with just a bit more money than most graduate students had) and that his pants were properly zipped. He didn't embarrass easily, but there were some societal rules he followed. He'd once wandered outside absentmindedly in his boxers and been accused of being a flasher. That had taken some quick talking to get out of that mess.

Satisfied that he had things well in hand, L opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Moving briskly, he took the stairs two at a time before the building released him into the warm sunlight of a summer day. The clouds had passed the sun, leaving only their cottony whiteness pillowing the brilliant blue sky.

One of the few things L had no talent for was music. While he was able to differentiated between notes, he wasn't able to actually sing. It was a flaw he hid quite well, but he found himself humming under his breath as he walked down the street with an uncharacteristic bounce in his step. It really was a beautiful day, even though he preferred rain. There was a vitality in the air, the kind of life and good spirit that only came during the best days of the year.

He let his mind wander, taking in his surroundings. Since it was the middle of the day, there wasn't much foot traffic. Aside from the truant students, there were a few housewives going about their errands with young children in tow, a meter maid writing out a parking violation ticket and a couple of older men sitting outside a café, mulling together over a goban.

All in all, it was peaceful and ordinary, and he tried not to stare at any one person too long, or else he'd be indulging in his customary paranoia within seconds. Everyone did have an ulterior motive in his experience, but he had to be able to let go sometime, or else he'd drive himself absolutely bonkers. For today, he would let a spade be a spade, and try not to look for trouble. If there was trouble, it was inevitably find him, but there was no need to invite it.

He brushed passed one of the mother and child pairs, and watched out of the corner of his eye as the young woman quickly drew her son (similar features and he was clinging to her skirt) away from him, hissing an overly loud warning to stay away from the "strange man." It wasn't the first time it had happened to L, and he didn't let any reaction cross his features. It was better for the child to learn to be cautious, since there were plenty of "strange" people that might actually hurt him.

Shaking his head, he changed his course slightly, heading for the park. It wasn't much of one, just a spot of green grass with a couple of trees in it, but it would give him a chance to exercise. In the morning, groups of T'ai Chi Ch'uan practitioners gathered there, but by now the park would be fairly empty. Maybe he should practice some of his forms. He held the equivalence of a black belt - although never tested - in karate, but his skills were starting to slip.

Finding a place under one of the largest trees, L stretched slowly, his naturally agile build replying to his demands. It felt good, to move, and he felt his mind sharpen to that intent point that only master fighters could reach. It was his _kiai_, his fighting spirit, ready to strike. He couldn't get Kira right now, but he would.

He worked out for a good hour, a light sheen of sweat building up on his body. Finally he wound down, finally sitting against the tree. He considered buying something to drink, but the grass was soft under him, and he tilted his face upward, staring through the leafy canopy towards the glimpses of sunlight. Later, he decided. He'd go to a coffee shop and buy himself something sugary sweet and full of caffeine to take to the apartment. He needed to go back in an hour or so if he wanted to grab a shower before Raito arrived home from school.

A group of girls wandered passed, intent on their conversation. It was too early for them to be out of school, so he concluded they were another group playing hooky. Their voices, high pitched and slightly sharp, drifted toward him.

"...Rika wrote me yesterday, and she said she would be here." One girl waved a notebook in her companion's faces. "Maybe she got caught."

"She could have texted you more details."

"Why? The diary works for this kind of thing."

"An exchange diary is so nineties!" one of the school girls said derisively.

"It's still fun," the first speaker replied, pouting a little bit."If she's not here in fifteen minutes, I'll call her cell."

Something they said rang in L's mind. He hadn't thought of the whole exchange diary fad that had been an obsession of girls when he'd been younger. The girls had liked to share secrets and complaints in pretty, patterned notebooks that they had shared with their "best" friend. Man had actually kept several with a variety of different "best" friends, writing trivial concerns in glossy, neon ink colors. Some girls had gotten elitist about the whole situation, exercising the subtle pressure of peers upon their less popular colleagues through ostracization. Thankfully, they'd fallen out of use in recent years, but there were still some diehards.

He'd heard of them recently, though, and something pulled at the corner of his attention. Exchange diary... where had he seen that recently? He pursed his lips, trying to recall. It took a while to sort through his memory but suddenly the burst of inspiration he had been seeking came upon him like a revelation from some kind of deity.

He nearly shook in shock, his knees going weak. He remembered flipping through all those periodicals on Misa Misa, which contained glossy photo shoots, and fluff interviews that covered what her favorite color was (pink) and what she liked in guys (handsome, smart boys). Apparently he'd numbed his mind on those banal details, because he'd missed the obvious. There, in a curving blue bubbly font, under the headline, "Kiss and Tell with Misa Misa!" was the possible break he'd been searching for.

_Oh, Misa Misa does like writing! She used to keep an exchange diary with her best friend, but since she moved to Tokyo, she can't do that anymore. Misa Misa still likes to write entries, though!_

It was like being hit by a hammer between the eyes. L couldn't believe he'd been that slow. Misa Misa kept a journal.

He wondered how Raito could have missed it as well, but it was entirely possible that Raito had written the detail off as unimportant, since he did have a teenage sister and would see that as standard behavior.

He wanted to see it. He wondered if her entries would contain any hint of what was going on. Even the most inconsequential events might shed some light on what she had done to earn Kira's attention. It might offer some hint of the cause of the deaths around her.

He bit his thumbnail as he started to mentally run through the possibilities. There was little to no chance she'd consent to let him take a peek, and even if she did, he knew she'd alter things, whether it was minor details about her love life or something more incriminating. So he'd just have to circumvent her.

Raito wouldn't like it. Raito was the son of a policeman, and still clung to the laws his father had cherished. L believed in justice, and while Raito might be the type to consider vigilantism, L doubted he would approve of it in practice. Raito was still green, and wasn't able to see the shades of gray that law enforcement was often forced into. For Raito, the law was the law.

So... he just wouldn't tell Raito. It wasn't like he hadn't kept secrets before. Raito didn't need to know everything, after all. _He_ was the one using Raito.

L whistled tunelessly as he dug into his pocket and produced his cell phone. From memory, he punched a number and waited as it rang three times before a sleepy, sexy voice demanded he explain who the hell he thought he was, calling at 2 a.m. He'd forgotten she might not be in this time zone.

He ignored her anger. "Hello, Weddie? I have a job for you."


	13. Chapter 12: Excessive Chain

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part 12: Excessive Chain_

_A week before Yagami Souichirou died, Matsuda quit the case. _

The young police officer had been tormented by the decision for a while, but L knew it was going to happen. Mogi had left three months before, re-assigned by a fed-up commander, leaving only the Yagami and his assistant at L's side. Neither man made any overt sign of frustration, but L knew the stress had to be getting to them. Even Matsuda's cheer seemed forced, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before he broke. 

Yagami's credibility had suffered horribly for choosing to trust L. All aspects of their investigation were leading to dead ends, no matter how hard they tried to find solid evidence that Kira was _real_ and he was out to get people. It was like running into a wall, and then standing up and choosing to run into it again. 

Aside from experiencing his own frustration, L's sources had informed him that rumors around Yagami's sanity were circulating in police headquarters. There were whispers, some more quiet than others, that Yagami was going to be demoted. A few months ago, they had promoted another officer to take care of Yagami's "mundane" duties, ostentatiously so he could focus on the Kira investigation. In reality, it had been the first step toward removing him. He had too good a record to fire, but if he didn't back down soon, then it would be easy to force him into an early retirement. 

Yagami had to know this as well, and he did what L had expected: he found a way to save Matsuda from being inked with the same brush. Matsuda was young and talented, and had a whole career in front of him. 

The requested transfer had come promptly, offering Matsuda everything he could wish for. A promotion, a new location, and the prestige that came from being a Japanese representative to Interpol. 

Matsuda, predictably enough, refused. 

L met few people that deserved to be called true idealists, but Matsuda was one. When Yagami had set the papers in his lap, he'd taken a quick look at them, before bowing and humbly declining the offer. "I could never live with myself if I didn't follow this through to the end," Matsuda said. 

Yagami's mustache had twitched in what might have been a smile, before he picked up the transfer papers and pushed them into Matsuda's hands. "It would be better if you went," he said in a quietly authoritative voice. 

"Are you… am I doing something wrong?" Matsuda asked as his face lost its color. "I'll try harder, I know I haven't been much help, but-" 

Yagami interrupted. "It's a strategic decision on our part," he said. "I'm currently not in favor with most of the department, so they aren't offering me much in the way of cooperation. I had to call in several favors from old friends to get you this position," he said. 

Matsuda wasn't stupid, and quickly understood what Yagami was trying to say. "You want me to help you from inside the department?" he asked. 

"It would be useful to have someone with access to worldwide intelligence," Yagami said. "Right, Ryuuzaki?" 

L thought for a long moment before answering. He realized that Yagami was setting up a reasonable excuse to dismiss Matsuda without hurting the younger man's pride or compromising his ethics. Knowing Yagami, he'd gradually completely cut contact since Matsuda was likely to get involved in his new position. Eventually Matsuda would be completely free of the Kira investigation. 

It was a noble thing to do. L, however, reasoned that having Matsuda at Interpol might indeed work the way Yagami was explaining. The young man was more tenacious than Yagami gave him credit for; he wouldn't forget his old cases just because he got busy. 

So L smiled and agreed. 

The next day, Matsuda handed in his resignation. Yagami was dead six days later, and L hadn't heard from him since. 

* * *

Raito arrived home late that evening. L recognized from the tightness of his carriage that something had wound him up. A faint line marred his otherwise perfect brow, a ripple in his otherwise immaculate comportment. He paused at the door, carefully drawing both deadbolts and pulling the chain across the door. 

"Long day?" L asked, in part because it was customary to offer an ear when someone looked upset, but mainly because he was curious. Anything that could rile Raito was worth knowing. 

"Somewhat," Raito said. "I'm going to order pizza." 

Pizza, L had learned, was a comfort food to Raito. He liked his pizza plain, although he liked it with extra cheese. They'd learned to compromise when ordering, going half and half, since L ate his with anchovies and pineapple. "Get it from Pizza Palace?" L asked hopefully. They made the best crust there. 

"As long as you pay for half," Raito agreed. He went over to his computer and accessed the company's web site. 

"And order breadsticks with extra garlic sauce," L added. 

There was a slight pause in Raito's typing, but then he murmured an agreement. L knew that Raito had to be truly stressed out not to argue, since Raito wasn't fond of the scent of garlic. It tended to linger, and though L found it a pleasant aroma, Raito claimed it turned his stomach. 

The order was placed, and Raito pushed away from the computer. His face was still set with tension, and L knew the ordinary thing to do would be to offer to listen. L wasn't ordinary. 

"I don't think there's anything we can do tonight," L said. "I'm waiting for one of my consultants to supply a bit of privileged information." Police work was ninety percent tedium and waiting. He wished Weddie had been closer, but it would take her nearly a full day to travel back to Japan. She wouldn't have anything for him until tomorrow at the earliest. 

It was a sign of how upset Raito had to be that he didn't ask about the information. "Fine," he said. "I'll do my homework." L frowned as the teenager left the room. It wasn't like Raito not to argue. A suspicion crept into L's mind, one that he had to sit down and think on. 

He knew that Raito was clever, and might not be completely open with him. Maybe Raito had managed to discover a lead, and was keeping it close to his chest. Despite their supposed policy of open communication, L knew Raito was quite capable of deciding to keep a secret as a trump card. 

Raito wasn't the kind to seek glory for himself, he was the kind glory found, wanted or not. The cream always rises to the top. 

Just suppose he found a clue about Kira on his own. What if he found something that pointed to L as Kira? He admitted the possibility; the computer simulation he'd run six months before had given the possibility of _him_ being Kira; less than .005 percent, but still high enough for him to wonder if he'd developed a split personality. 

Or maybe he'd misjudged Raito's willingness to cooperate. Raito might decide to capture Kira on his own and claim the credit. Or he might just kill Kira in retaliation for Yagami's death. It could go either way. 

He trusted Raito as much as he would trust himself if their roles were reversed: that was not at all. Most would call him paranoid, but he'd always found acting under paranoia a very effective operating system. Most of them _were_ out to get him. 

Raito reappeared several moments later, his tie and suit jacket discarded. He looked a bit more peaceful as he claimed a seat on the couch, his hands full of school papers. Raito never completely let go of stress, but there were times when he almost relaxed. 

A flash of pink on Raito's collar caught his eyes. It was small, about three centimeters in length, and a bit smudged. Staring at it intensely for a second, he identified it easily. L was surprised to see the lipstick marks. Raito had never struck him as the type to let something that messy escape his attention. 

L gave him several moments to settle himself before asking a question. "What did you do today, Raito-kun?" he asked in his most innocuous voice. 

Raito slanted him a look that told L that the tact had been the wrong one, the pen twirling through his fingers. "I went to school, met with my study group," he said. "Nothing spectacular." 

"Really? You seem awfully tense," L said, deciding to play this straight-out. "Girl problems?" He tried to put a commiserating expression on his face. "Maybe it'd help if you'd talk about it?" 

Raito's lips twitched in what could have been taken for amusement – or annoyance. L wagered on the first. "Trying to live vicariously through me, Ryuuzaki?" Raito asked, his voice low and slightly dangerous. 

"I might have some advice," L replied. Glancing at the wall, he estimated that there was another ten minutes before the pizza would arrive. "Did you have fun with your girlfriend tonight?" L asked in a placid voice. Inside something in him relaxed as he recognized Raito's ill humor probably was related to female problems. He liked having a mundane, non-Kira related explanation. 

Raito looked down, and saw what had caught L's attention. "Damn it," he muttered to himself, pulling the collar away from his neck. "I didn't see that. Excuse me, I need to change." He went back to his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him with carefully controlled violence. 

It was hard for L not to laugh. His paranoia had been for nothing; Raito was just having girl problems. It was a nearly foreign concept to L, since he rarely dated. He frowned as he tried to remember the last time he'd been out with a woman. Four years, and that had been work-related. 

Some might call him obsessive, chained to his job as thoroughly as if he'd married it, but L had long ago discovered that women held little appeal for him. Few of them were bright enough to keep his interest long, and fewer still would give him the time of day. He understood that his strangeness was off putting for them, but found their shallow focus annoying. 

Raito came back a couple moments later, wearing a black T-shirt that looked like it had been ironed. L found Raito's devotion to his appearance comical. Still, feelings needed to be taken into account when interacting with other people. "I am sorry if I offended," L said, deciding to apologize before Raito took serious offense. "I was just teasing." 

Raito shook his head. "No, it was just… a difficult day. Nothing I can't handle, but… challenging." 

"Raito-kun, I will listen if you want to talk," L offered. "Sometimes speaking can help sort problems out." 

Raito shrugged before reclaiming his seat on the sofa. "It's nothing spectacular. Kiyomi wants to take our relationship to the next level, but I obviously can't." He shrugged. "She cried, I blew her off. I hate it when women try to manipulate me with their tears." 

L would wager there was more to it than that. "You've been dating since before your father died. She seems like a good choice," he said. "You won't always be on the Kira case." 

"But I will always be on a case," Raito said. "I am not the type of man who can stand aside when there's things I should be doing. I can't love her the way she wants me to." 

"Who says you have to love her?" L asked. 

"It's something most women expect, Ryuuzaki," he replied, "and I'm not heartless enough to pretend just so she can be happy." 

"Love is a pretty idea, but it doesn't have much to do with the real world," L replied. He'd thought about this before. "Marriage is about making a convenient arrangement that benefits both parties." 

"Who said anything about marriage?" Raito asked. 

"Isn't that what most women are after? A good secure home, an attractive mate, children? That's the ultimate point of dating." 

"You're obviously not a romantic," Raito said, a smile curving his lips. 

"Neither are you," L retorted. "If-" A knock on the door interrupted him before he could finish. Both of their heads swung toward the sound. 

"It's probably the pizza," said Raito. 

L nodded, digging into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. "I've got it," he said as he found the credit card he'd been using as Ryuuka. 

Opening the door, he stepped backwards in surprise as he saw who it was. "What are you doing here?" he asked. 

"I found out something I think you should know," Matsuda said. 


	14. Chapter 13: Radio Cassette Player

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part 13: Radio-Cassette Player_

L stepped away from the door, trying to conceal the shock that was coursing through him.

He had miscalculated. Against all odds, Matsuda had overcome his predictions. He had never anticipated seeing Matsuda again; they had sent him away, and he'd thought that Matsuda would eventually piece together that they'd gotten rid of him as a liability for the case. And when that happened, L had assumed – with all of his personality models backing him up – that Matsuda had been so shamed that he would never dare show his face in front of L again.

Either Matsuda had more balls than he thought, or was exponentially stupider. Neither scenario appealed to L. It irritated him to misjudge Matsuda; he hated the implicated fallibility in his abilities.

For a second, he wanted to remove Matsuda from the area, step out into the hall and conduct business privately, but decided against that almost immediately. Raito would be able to watch on the surveillance cameras, anyway, and Raito had already noted L's uncharacteristic surprise. Raito was sitting in the perfect position to see L's disconcerted behavior. He didn't make any sound, but was most likely using that eidetic memory of his to record the situation so it could be analyzed later.

"You should come in," he said, stepping far enough away from the door to admit his unexpected guest.

"Sure," Matsuda said as he moved carefully into the room, his limbs locked tight to his torso, like he was afraid of accidentally brushing against something and causing it to break. L had chided the man more than once about his clumsiness, but this was ranging on paranoia.

Out of the corner of his eye, L watched Raito rise to his feet, a welcoming smile for their guest on his face. Over time, Raito had come to relax a bit in L's presence, dropping the majority of his carefully cultivated perfect persona. Raito played many roles for his admirers, but he'd come to show L more of the "real" him as they learned to tentatively trust each other.

The real Raito was sharper than he was around normal people, less understanding of human failing. The real Raito didn't _like_ many people, finding those that were weaker than he was annoying and ignorant. The real Raito didn't respect anyone who couldn't keep up with him, and had no patience for ignorance.

The real Raito was a downright bastard.

Now he smiled at Matsuda with congeniality, and L had to suppress a scowl. He hadn't realized how much Raito's facade irritated him until confronted with the difference. "Matsuda, this is my roommate, Yagami Raito," L said, deciding to observe courtesies to help stall the inevitable confrontation.

"We've met," Matsuda murmured. "It's good to see Raito-san again. I was sorry I didn't get to the funeral." There was respect in Matsuda's eyes when he looked at Raito, holding out a hand to shake. It was a very western gesture, one Matsuda had only picked up in recent months.

"It's fine," Raito replied, his voice warm. "I know you respected my father." He smoothly clasped Matsuda's hand in greeting before stepping back.

Deciding that courtesies had been given enough acknowledgment, L cut directly to the chase. "What is it that you want me to know?" he said. Matsuda's eyes darted over to Raito. "You can trust Raito like you did his father," L said reassuringly. _Never mind that he's ten times smarter, and a hundred times less forgiving,_ L qualified to himself. What Matsuda didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Can we sit down?" Matsuda asked, shifting on his feet as he stood in the middle of their living room. "You're going to be want to be sitting down," he added, verging on babbling.

L raised an eyebrow, but moved to comply, only to be interrupted by the doorbell. Matsuda jumped a bit at the unexpected sound, further perking L's curiosity. He'd never considered the older man paranoid, but things appeared to have changed.

"That should be the pizza," Raito said, his lips quirking with amusement as he glanced at L.

L sighed and pulled his credit card out again, finding the distraction – even of food – unwelcome. Besides, it would be impolite not to invite Matsuda to stay for dinner, which meant some his pizza was possibly going to have to be sacrificed for the sake of good manners.

He was more abrupt than usual with the deliveryman, though he did give a large tip to appease the food delivery gods for his discourtesy. Heading back into the room, he wasn't surprised to see Raito had used the time to get three paper plates.

Matsuda looked uncomfortable as the box's lid was opened, but took one of Raito's plain cheese slices when asked if he wanted a piece. The mozzarella stretched thin as he pulled it away from the main pie, earning an undignified yelp from the policeman as the cheese threatened to slide off.

The pizza's arrival had dispelled the tense atmosphere, and L felt more relaxed with food in his hands – and more in control of the situation. Raito ate slowly, his eyes on their guest. He had neglected to get a knife and fork, which was probably because he was trying to act "normal." Raito was the only person L knew who preferred to eat pizza with utensils. He hated making a mess.

After taking a couple of bites, L decided to move the conversation forward. Since Matsuda hadn't made any moves on _L's_ share of the pizza, he was feeling pretty mellow. "What brings you here?"

Matsuda stared at his plate, abandoning his food. "It's my fault," he said hurriedly. "I wanted to know what's going on. After Yagami-san died, I kept my eye on his family because I thought he would have wanted someone to watch out for them, just in case something went wrong and when Raito moved in with you a couple of months ago, I realized that something was up. It's not mere chance that brings you to live with Yagami Raito, son of the former head of the Kira investigation. Unfortunately, someone else noticed I was interested, and it's my fault."

Apparently Matsuda was smarter than L had been giving him credit for – however, he still had a horrible habit of babbling and an inability to communicate concisely. "What's your fault?" L asked, trying not to get irritated with Matsuda's near-incoherence.

Matsuda pulled a tape player out of his pocket and set it on the table. "I could lose my job if they find I'm letting you hear this, but..." Matsuda's lips thinned as he pressed them together, before taking a big breath. "L, they think _you_ are Kira," Matsuda said.

Surprise caused L to jerk, his usual calm deserting him. The slice of pizza he'd been inhaling slipped from his fingers, falling onto his plate with a soft "plop." Raito reacted with a sudden hiss of breath, setting his own food aside onto the coffee table.

"Excuse me?" L asked, unable to believe that anyone would be idiotic enough to buy that. He had been tracking Kira for over a _year_ and... he pushed his original indignation aside, forcing himself to not get caught up emotionally. This was just another obstacle in his investigation, nothing special.

"Interpol thinks that you're Kira," Matsuda said flatly. He hit the play button on the recorder. An unidentified male voice began to speak in English. It took L, who had been thinking in Japanese for months, a moment switch his mental gear, but the gravelly voice was talking about him.

"-no one else smart enough to perpetrate this kind of crime. His global network rivals that of any government agency, and he has the resources to commit the murders."

A voice, recognizable as Matsuda's, responded. "Do you really think he'd do that? How many crimes has he solved? L stands for justice!"

Matsuda's not unexpected partisanship almost made L chuckle, but the tape was rolling on and he needed to pay attention. A different voice, this one feminine. "Can you think of a better explanation for this? Why else could Kira successfully elude capture? What other person is out there that can defeat L? He's never had trouble solving a crime before; if he's Kira, it would explain things perfectly."

"But why would he want to?" Matsuda, again.

"Power," the first voice replied. "Curiosity. Boredom – take your pick. L isn't the type to seek public recognition – he's one of those that believes that being the power behind the throne is more rewarding. Kira is terrorizing the public, even if most of them refuse to admit he exists. I think L is the type who would get satisfaction out of the knowledge of what he's done."

"It's not unknown for the best detectives to try to commit a perfect crime," the female voice added. "After years of investigating crimes, some decide that they could do it better. They could create a crime which would never be solved. The perfect murder becomes their Holy Grail."

L felt Raito's eyes on him, but made an effort to pick up his food and continue eating, despite a sudden lack of appetite. The tape continued for another ten minutes examining what possible actions that Interpol should take, during which L polished off his half of pizza. Neither Raito nor Matsuda finished their first slice.

The tape finally "clicked" at its end, cutting off the conversation. L had heard enough; he knew exactly what was happening, and didn't like the implications. Interpol was just inches away from putting a warrant out on him. He looked over at Raito, nodding to indicate he wanted the other young man to speak first.

Raito was quiet for several seconds, processing what he'd just heard. "They're looking for a scapegoat," Raito said, speaking in a soft voice. He looked over at Matsuda. "You obviously believe they're wrong, or you wouldn't be here."

"I know L," Matsuda said firmly. "There's a couple of other people who believe in him, but I think it will only be a matter of time before they try to arrest him. I just thought he should know what was going on."

L would have laughed at the idea that Matsuda _knew_ him if the situation hadn't been so serious. Matsuda might have been older than Raito, but he was still a heck of a lot more naive. "Thank you," he said, before turning his attention to Raito. "This may complicate things."

"They're going to shut us down," Raito said flatly. "They'll drag you in, and while they're focusing on you, the real Kira will get away."

"They'd have to catch me first," L replied, "and there's no way they can." He had lived most of his life hiding from the curious, and he wasn't about to let himself be taken.

"Matsuda and I both found you. There's other people out there who are as good as we are, L. You're not omnipotent."

It was annoying, but Raito did have a point. He must be slipping, to allow himself to be so easily located. "We're going to need to move, Raito," L murmured. "We're going to have to drop out of sight."

Raito wore an annoyed expression. "You want me to drop out of Toudai, don't you?" he asked.

"You said you wanted to find Kira. That requires sacrifices," L replied. There was also the possibility that L could leave Raito behind and go under deep cover, but he mentally kissed that idea goodbye when he thought of Raito's obsessive nature. There was no way that Raito would forget about the investigation.

"Won't vanishing put up more alarms?" Raito asked reasonably. He might have been wearing that gentle smile that indicated he was trying to be rational, but L understood Raito loathed the idea of giving up his current prestige. Raito was the kind of person who wanted to have it all.

"They already are onto us," L replied, worrying his thumb with his teeth as he considered the possibilities. "This cover isn't doing us any good."

"How about a different cover, then?" Raito asked. 


	15. Chapter 14: Perfect Blue

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction  
by: **aishuu**

* * *

_Part 14: Perfect Blue_

Raito was disgustingly quiet on the whole topic of a "new cover." After offering the cryptic suggestion, he refused to say anymore until Matsuda left. He wasn't rude, but he made it clear he believed fewer people involved, the better.

Matsuda accepted the brush-off philosophically, taking L's advice to use Watari as a contact if something came up. Interpol still hadn't pinned "Ryuuzaki" as L, though it was only a matter of time. L knew he was good, but the people on the international level were talented as well. In the modern world, it was practically impossible to completely hide.

L finished re-locking the door before turning to Raito. An empty pizza box sat on the coffee table, with their used plates stacked on top of it. For some reason, Raito was staring at the mess like it was a Picasso. L squinted at it briefly, and was unable to determine what Raito found so fascinating.

"Something interesting?" L asked as he crouched back into position on a chair.

Raito jerked his head to look at L, lacking his usual poise. "No, no... just thinking of the next step," he said. He seemed nervous, L noted with interest. No – he mentally corrected – Raito was uncomfortable. Whatever idea he'd come up with obviously sat uneasily with him, which only made L curious. There had been times when he'd had to do distasteful things in pursuit of justice, but so far Raito hadn't. He wondered if it might break the younger man.

"Do you care to share your plan?" L asked, unable to resist needling Raito. His competitive streak was roused by Raito's talents, and though it was petty, L couldn't ignore the chance to get one up on Raito.

Raito stared down at his hands for a long moment, before clenching his fingers into fists, steeling his resolve. He took a deep breath. "Not really, but I'm going to."

"Enlighten me, my friend," L replied, smiling brightly. It was fun to see Raito irritated, no matter how serious the situation was. He knew to take his pleasures where he could.

Raito rose to his feet and took several steps. "Do you know the principle of performing magic tricks?" Raito asked, his eyes looking at a wall rather than his companion.

"A dumb audience?" L said sarcastically, before shaking his head and chuckling. "It's distraction. You make a big gesture with one hand to keep attention away from the other."

"Exactly," Raito said. "So we're going to hide something on the surface to keep them from looking any deeper."

"Such as?" L asked.

"What's the most basic of human motivations?"

"Greed," L said.

"No," Raito shook his head, "even more basic." He was still avoiding looking at L.

L was starting to see where Raito's train of thought was going, and didn't like it anymore than Raito did. "You can't be thinking..."

"Logically, why would two young men suddenly move in together? Especially when they have no past history of interacting?"

"Finances, or..." L wasn't a prude, but he didn't want to complete the thought.

"Sex," Raito said bluntly, and his head turned back. His dark eyes were challenging, as if daring L to deny the rationality of where he was leading. "It's the most basic of human desires, and the most powerful."

L would have argued for food, but he realized that sometimes his priorities didn't mesh with the rest of humanity's. He shifted uncomfortably, not likely where this conversation was heading. "If I am to understand you, you think we should pretend to be involved." He sounded appropriately blasé, he thought, not displaying the uneasiness that he was feeling. He regretted toying with Raito now, since he knew that suggesting the action had taken more chutzpah than L himself would have possessed if he'd come up with it first. He had to award Raito a point for sheer nerve.

It wasn't that he couldn't see the rational behind the suggestion. He could. It was just that there were some things which he'd never been very good at, and relationships were top of the list. L had long ago accepted that he wasn't going to find anyone who would be able to cope with his peculiarities.

Raito, he knew, was better at getting along with people than he was. Raito was charismatic, and handsome, and others were drawn to him. He had noted that at their first official meeting, months ago at the coffee shop. He still remembered the way the waitress had practically tripped over herself to earn Raito's attention.

"It's a reasonable explanation of why we'd move in together, and it also excuses our tendency to be reclusive." Raito's tension was ebbing, now that the topic was out in the open. He took a seat on the couch crossed from L, just the way they did when dissecting aspects of the investigation.

"You honestly think people would believe you and I-" L cut off, shutting his eyes. He wasn't self-conscious but he was aware of how the world worked. Raito was one of the beautiful people, and L... wasn't. "I don't think people would believe I'm your type. For one thing, we're both males and you've never exhibited any homosexual tendencies."

"Some people might consider my obsessive compulsive organization and fastidious dress sense homosexual indicators," Raito replied, his voice full of self-mocking irony.

L thought it wasn't fair for Raito to speak like that. Raito rarely displayed a sense of humor, one of the most maddening things about him. L found it hard to resist what Raito wanted those few times he poked fun at himself.

"That aside, I doubt people would find it believable that you would be attracted to me," L said. He waved a hand, indicating his sloppy appearance.

"Opposites attract, L," Raito replied. "And you're not ugly, you're interesting."

If L hadn't known how brutally honest Raito preferred to be, he would have assumed it was a platitude, intended on flattering L into agreeing. "Really," he said. "I don't think most people would agree with you."

"I can have anyone I want, L," Raito said. "Beauty that's only skin deep doesn't interest me."

Others might have accused Raito of arrogance for saying that, but L had never liked false humility. "Looking for true love instead?" L asked teasingly. He couldn't resist the jibe, and hoped it will dispel the uneasiness that was setting into his stomach. He chewed his thumbnail, realizing he wanted to believe Raito's flattery – and unable to decipher why.

"I don't believe in love," Raito replied flatly. "Just animal attraction."

L canted his head as he considered that. He, too, was a practical person, and he believed in the evidence of his eyes. "So you don't love your family?" he asked. "I don't understand why you'd go to such lengths to avenge your father, then."

His words didn't shake Raito. "Maybe I should rephrase myself. I don't believe in all-consuming love that becomes an obsession," he said. "I don't believe it's sensible for anyone. There's no such thing as soul mates, just compatible personalities."

L remembered how Raito had treated his girlfriend, Takada Kiyome. He hadn't formed any emotional attachment to her aside from affection, dismissing her from his mind instantly when they weren't together. "If we decide to perpetuate this... facade, you risk your reputation. The law enforcement community in general does not view homosexual activities kindly," said L.

"When I first wrote to you, I told you I was interested in justice. I want that so badly I can taste it – I dream about it at night, about bringing Kira to justice. I'm not an idiot – nothing in life is free, and I recognize some sacrifices might have to be made. You've already given up most of your reputation, and you expect me to do less? If we catch Kira, it will be worth it!" The fervor in his voice caused a surge of alarm in L.

"Fine," L agreed, partly because he wanted to distract Raito, and deciding that another charade wouldn't hurt _him._ He didn't have a public persona like Raito, and if things went down the hole, he could always just create another identity.

"Fine," Raito replied, his expression smug from getting his way.

They were quiet, and the silence stretched thin between them like taffy getting pulled. Finally L couldn't take it anymore. "So how do you want to go about this?"

Raito rubbed his chin as he considered. "It'd be best not to be overt. Since neither of us is 'out of the closet,' it would make sense to pretend to be hiding a relationship. We just make a couple of 'slips' and it'll establish the cover."

"Slips?" L echoed, feeling out of his depth.

"You know, get caught kissing, maybe some overly casual touches here and there, a hickey or two..." Raito trailed off, a grin springing to his lips before he began to laugh.

L knew the cause of Raito's amusement. His face felt red, and he recognized he probably resembled the color of an apple. He hadn't known he could get embarrassed like this.

Raito managed to get his amusement under control. "Anyone would think you'd never been kissed."

There had been no kisses from the staff at the orphanage, L thought. And he'd never had a girlfriend – or boyfriend. By the time he'd been old enough to consider it, he'd already been embroiled in pursuing international criminals.

"I haven't," he said stiffly.

The sound of the first two measures of Mission Impossible chimed, and L dived for the excuse to take a break from the conversation. He dug his cell phone out of the chair's cushion where it had mysteriously ended up. The phone was a plain blue and lacked any decoration or straps, but he liked it because of the extra features. He was getting very good at Tetris.

"Yes?" This call was going to be important. There were less than ten people who had his number, and all knew not to call him with frivolities. At the moment, he probably would have tolerated it just because it'd given him a chance to take a break from the distressingly intimate conversation.

"It's me," a female voice said, one which he'd been waiting to hear.

L looked across the way to where Raito was sitting. He'd rearranged himself slightly, leaning forward in the fashion that indicated his curiosity had been engaged. "Is there a problem with my account?" he asked, mouthing "Watari" to silently answer the perceived interest.

"Someone listening?" Weddie asked, and amusement colored her voice. L imagined her on the other end of the line, smirking at his predicament. Weddie wasn't an acquaintance who L, the man who stood for justice, could readily acknowledge. But sometimes the law and justice weren't complimentary ideals, so L had accepted the fact that expedience was necessary.

"Yeah, so you need my password?"

"Gotcha. Well, I'll keep this short, then. I broke into Amane's apartment, but didn't find any diary. But I did find something very interesting in a secret panel of her desk."

"Really." L rolled his eyes for Raito's benefit, putting on an abused expression, much like any young man being lectured by his guardian.

"Willing to pay?"

"I need that 5 million yen transferred," he replied. "You know I have living expenses."

"10 million," she countered.

"It'll be done? Good. Are you doing okay?"

"She has a small black book with 'Death Note' written in white letters. I browsed through, and-" She stopped abruptly. "I've got to go," she said, and hung up.

L stared blankly at the wall, and it was only Raito's presence that kept him from screaming aloud. Two years, and the closest thing to a break on the case he'd had just hung up on him.

"L? Is something wrong?" Raito asked.

L was not going to start crying – that would be childish and he never indulged in tears. He would not hyperventilate – hysteria would get him no where. Instead, he would take the logical course and try to be constructive. L lowered his phone, and took a deep breath before addressing his partner. "Raito, have you ever heard of a Death Note?" 


	16. Chapter 15: Invincible, unrivaled

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction

_ by aishuu_

Notes: This is going to start tilting to a strongly R fic – I'd call this section PG-13, but it's all downhill from here. I'll be posting a "T" version on ffnet but the unedited stuff will end up on my ficjournal.

* * *

_Part 15: Invincible; unrivaled_

"Death Note?" Raito echoed. He paused, seeming to turn it over in his mind a couple of times. "Do you mean a suicide letter?"

"No, I meant Death Note," L said, before shrugging his shoulders, trying to appear casual while at the same time studying Raito for any hint of knowledge. "An acquaintance mentioned it to Watari, and I was wondering if you knew what it was."

Raito's eyes narrowed, and L recognized that he was caught in his own lie. L wasn't about to back down; the trick to lying well was not to give in when confronted with proof of your dishonesty. "I've never heard the term before. Does it involve the Kira case?"

"Maybe," L said. He weighed what to do with the matter. If he told Raito about Weddie, he'd be losing one of his best weapons. Weddie – and a few others like her – were the morally questionable informants he used to help furrow out the truth. L had learned long ago that while moral righteousness was a nice concept, it failed to translate well in reality. Sometimes to catch the bad guys, a few laws had to be broken. However, it was best no one else knew he was breaking the rules, since many got uneasy when faced with hypocrisy.

L merely considered it expedient. In the long run, he was doing more good for society than harm. Society couldn't function if only criminals could break the rules.

He still couldn't shake the suspicion that Raito might be Kira – the probability was higher for him than it was for most of the general population, although it was still under one percent. Maybe Raito was a split personality. L had read compelling work theorizing that many criminals might be committing crimes during dissociative breaks. It wouldn't excuse him, but it might be an explanation.

Raito watched him with a carefully blank expression, waiting for L to come to a decision. This was a pivotal moment in their relationship. If he _didn't_ tell Raito, it was likely to come back and bite him in the ass. Raito was smart, and would continue to research behind L's back, even if he wasn't Kira. Raito was only going to give as much cooperation as he was given in return. L decided some obfuscation was in order.

"Watari runs my information networks. He has contacts from his old days – he was a real life James Bond, if you can believe it. Anyway, he has friends who will only speak to him, and then he funnels the information to me. I've always found his intelligence highly reliable, so I don't ask too much about where it originates since it can be shady," L replied. "I can't do everything myself, after all."

He couldn't make that leap of faith to tell Raito about Weddie, about how his networks worked. It was a potential liability, since Raito would be the logical person to step in and take over should anything happen to L. However, until he had Kira in his hands, he couldn't completely trust anyone. Especially not genius-level youths who might be able to outsmart L himself.

"I see," Raito said, and L knew that he was referring to more than the alleged network.

"We're just keeping the possible routes of investigation open," L replied. "Do you feel like apple pie? I think we have vanilla ice cream in the freezer, too."

Raito shook his head, declining the offer. "I've got some research to do," he said. "I'll be in my room, working on my laptop. You enjoy your dessert."

L understood what that meant. They were beginning to draw the lines, and L wasn't sure they were on the same side anymore. So be it, he thought, trying not to feel depressed. He did not want to be Raito's rival; he wanted to be his friend. But that option seemed to be closing its door, and in the end, L would have to once again prove he was the best.

* * *

No matter how little sleep L required, there were times when even he had to cave into the demands of his body. If the mind did not shut down occasionally, there was no way for it to refresh itself. Every now and then, he would feel a flash of fatigue, and answer it by taking a slightly excessive dose of sleeping pills. His metabolism, which served him well due to his love of junk food, was unfortunately as effective when it came to processing drugs. 

The drugs ensured a deep and dreamless sleep. He woke feeling clearer-headed than he had in a while. He had slept for eight hours, missing Raito's early morning departure. It was probably just as well.

L was the first to admit he had a tendency to react with paranoia; however he also believed that paranoia was healthy. There _were_ many people out to get him, and it was better to suspect everyone than to let one of the bastards get a shot at him. However he was starting to wonder if he had miscalculated with Raito.

He showered and dressed, thinking about his plans for the day. He needed to make an appearance on campus, since his advisory was insisting on a consultation to discuss how his thesis was going. He found it an annoying waste of time, but he couldn't afford to blow his cover as a student now. There were other agencies out there looking for him; he hadn't needed Matsuda's alert to know that there were people who wanted him strung up as an example. The worst thing he could do was to go under, because he'd learned that there was always the possibility of being discovered no matter how well he hid, and running implied guilt.

It would be best to act normally and ignore the time limit on Misa Misa's life. Panic was the most common reason criminals were caught. Even though they were at the "two days left and counting" point, he refused to get stressed out about it. Besides, while she had agreed to help, there would be others. If she got really desperate, she could just cave to Kira's demands. He thought her instinct for survival would kick in soon. Unlike most of Kira's victims, she _believed._

He made his way to campus, idly wondering if he should try to track Weddie down. Her abrupt hang up was worrying, but Weddie knew that she was on her own while on the job. L didn't have the resources to bail out any of his agents. A small, nagging thought started to prey at his mind, and he realized he had a pretty good idea what had happened to her. Ungrounded speculation, though, was unreliable.

He hadn't been good about attending his classes, but none of his professors took attendance so that didn't matter. He already had all his assignments, and most of them were completed. The high quality of his work would speak for itself.

He finally arrived at his advisor's room, just in time to catch a seat in front of her door as she invited someone else in. He squirmed a bit, trying to make himself comfortable, but nothing he could do would make the chair anything less than cheap.

It took fifteen minutes for her to admit him, and the less said about what happened inside, the better. If L had a thesis to discuss, it might have gone more smoothly, but L hedged for time, stating he needed to consider where his interests lay. He overwhelmed her with information, throwing out novels and authors like they were old friends. Name dropping worked, especially when he started talking about reading Shakespeare, Kafka and Jarchas, all in their original languages.

He left feeling annoyed, wondering if he was letting things slip. It wasn't like him to be sloppy about creating a cover persona, and Ryuuka Hideki was a skin he had to live within for a long time. Making a careless mistake now could cause things to come crashing down.

He figured the frown he wore could be attributed to his meeting. Many students on campus wore harried expressions, and L realized with a start that midterms were approaching. It was warm enough now for most people to be wearing short sleeves, though L was an exception. The only sign of the warm weather was his use of slip-on sandals. They were slightly – but only slightly – less offense to his bare feet than sneakers.

He had two options now that he had the formalities out of the way; he could head back to the apartment to continue his research, or he could extract Raito from his studies and go to see Misa Misa. He'd been delaying on visiting with the model again, but he estimated that with the 48 hour mark broached, she might finally be ready to spill what she knew.

He could do it himself, but he preferred to have Raito as back up. Besides, he needed to regain the ground he'd lost the night before due to his secrecy. He needed Raito to believe in him if the investigation was to proceed jointly.

He met Raito in the campus mall, sitting close to the same place where he'd initially announced his "transfer." Raito was surrounded by his usual coterie, with Takada in the place of honor by his right side. She was wearing a modest yet elegant green outfit, but it was her hand on Raito's arm that caught his attention. For a moment L considered whether they were lovers, but dismissed the idea as inconsequential.

"Raito-kun!" L called, waving a hand to get attention.

The group paused, and L noticed the fleeting look of annoyance that flashed over the girl's face, although she suppressed it quickly.

"Hideki!" Raito called, and he waved his hand to acknowledge L's presence. Raito's expression warmed, and the polite smile that he wore was replaced by one that seemed more real.

It was subtle, and L mentally gave him an Emmy for his acting abilities. The way he also used L's "first name" also was a nice touch, implying familiarity. Raito was a dangerous person, L thought. He could lie with his eyes.

"Ah, I'm sorry – there's my roommate. I forgot I promised to get lunch with him," Raito said, hesitating and he looked at the girl – Takada Kiyomi, the campus queen – and looking abashed. "We'll do lunch tomorrow?"

The girl murmured a polite acceptance, but L could see from her slightly pinched expression that she wasn't happy. It was hard not to twitch as she brushed an air kiss against Raito's cheek, before offering him a smile and demanding that he call her later that evening. Raito agreed, and then turned toward L.

"Were you in the mood for Chinese?" he asked, apparently forgetting the people who still lingered behind them. He placed a hand on L's shoulder, the casual invasion into L's personal space causing the hairs on the back of his neck to rise. "I know the best place..." he started, and then pressed L's shoulder as he guided them away from the group.

"What are you doing?" L asked, even though he had a pretty good idea what Raito was up to. He wanted to confirm it so he couldn't dismiss it.

"Establishing our new cover," Raito replied, raising an eyebrow. There was challenge in the smirk of his lips, but L wasn't going to back down.

"I see," L said. He glanced around for a more private place. They were passing by one of the older campus buildings, and he spotted a small alcove, originally used for a garden, but long since abandoned. He reached up to take Raito by the wrist and firmly steering him toward the inconspicuous spot.

Raito raised an eyebrow. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, echoing L's earlier statement.

L smiled dangerously. He didn't like how Raito had assumed control of their "cover," and he wasn't going to let it go. He savored the uncertainty that flashed over Raito's face as he pushed the younger man against the wall. Raito was watching him like he would a swaying snake, concerned about when and how he would strike.

L's experience in intimate matters was practically nonexistent (the one encounter with the highly paid escort had assured him he wasn't missing much). Now, though, he could feel the adrenalin surging in his veins, the excitement of competition fueling him, rather than lust.

He grabbed Raito's tie firmly – and it was Raito's own fault for wearing the stupid leash anyway – to keep him from moving. L straightened his back from his usual slump, leaning in to press his body against Raito's. Raito went rigid but didn't push him away or demand he stop.

It was a heady feeling of _power_ as he used his left hand to clutch a handful of Raito's hair, pulling roughly as he brought the other man's mouth towards his own. L kissed him without tenderness, using his teeth and tongue forcefully.

Raito was acquiescent for several moments, trying to process what was happening. Imprisoned by L's hold on both hair and tie, he couldn't break away without causing himself pain, and Raito wasn't a masochist. L didn't think he would have backed down even if he had the opportunity. Backing down would have been a sign of weakness.

Finally Raito opened his mouth and kissed L back, his tongue tracing the top of L's mouth, running it along the front of L's teeth. He knew how to kiss – there had probably been plenty of girls willing to teach him. He growled slightly, aggressively, and L felt his body start to spark with sexual arousal.

That was enough, he decided. Abruptly he let Raito go, taking two steps back and admiring his handiwork. Raito's face was flushed, his breathing heavy and those dark, glittering eyes narrowed angrily.

L smiled, his mood shifting into a more pleasant mode after winning _this_ battle. "Don't assume you're the _seme _of this relationship," L said softly. "I don't bend over for anyone."


	17. Chapter 16: kHz

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction

_by: aishuu_

* * *

_Part 16: kHz (kilohertz) _

L could tell Raito was edgy from the way he kept glancing over. On reflection, he shouldn't have pressed the issue like that, but there was just _something_ about Raito that elicited L's own worst behavior.

He hadn't thought things through before giving in to his own impulses. Satisfying as it had been to claim that victory, L knew he'd lost ground in their overall war. He could still feel the phantom pressure of Raito's mouth on his own, and he'd suddenly gained an electric awareness of Raito. Even though the other man was standing a good five feet away, L's skin was tingling, and he couldn't keep from stealing looks of his own.

This feeling had to be what attraction was. It was an interesting experience, he decided. Mentally he'd always understood that people could kill over sex and passion, but now he understood it a bit better. Even though he didn't like violence, throttling Raito would be very satisfying.

Though his vivid imagination was supplying other, more pleasurable and definitely more pornographic, ideas of what he'd like to do to Raito.

He had to forcibly restrain himself from touching his lips a couple of times when Raito wasn't looking. Kissing, to his surprise, had been surprisingly pleasurable. It sounded messy and gross, but the actual experience had much to say for it. Maybe after he solved the Kira case he would think about exploring it some more.

With someone else. While the thought of homosexuality didn't disturb him, the idea of sleeping with Raito did. There was still that possibility that he was Kira. Even if he wasn't, it would be like sleeping with a potentially venomous snake.

They took the train to where Misa Misa's latest shoot was. L had checked the tracker he'd placed in the watch, and was surprised that it agreed with what her official schedule said. It was a public shoot in one of the city schools, and people were welcome to attend. He didn't call her in advance, not wanting to concede any advantage he might get over her. Whatever she was, it wasn't "just" a ditzy model.

With two days left, he wondered if Misa Misa was feeling the stress. She might be more forthcoming the closer the deadline came. His hunch – which was really a very-well subconscious instinct that invariably proved to be correct – told him that whatever a Death Note was, it had bearing on the case. He still hadn't heard back from Weddie, and was starting to believe something nasty had happened.

And that something nasty probably involved the up and coming idol. Misa Misa was starting to irritate him. He didn't like variables he couldn't predict.

They were lucky, and caught her right at the end of the shoot. She was dressed in another scandalously revealing ensemble, a black and white piece of cloth that L wouldn't deign to dignify by calling a dress. Swatches of fabric seemed to run haphazardly over her form, nearly exposing the whole of one breast. It was hardly appropriate clothing for her educational surroundings, but L knew modeling agencies often looked for contrast to create a shock effect. It worked, especially with Misa Misa standing on top of two desks without shoes on.

Around her feet a group of girls in school uniforms was chattering excitedly. They had make-up on, indicating they'd likely been included in pictures, but otherwise in code-perfect dress. None of them wore anything non-regulation, indicating they'd been background to contrast Misa Misa's exceptional style.

Raito stood a half step behind him, a seemingly deferential posture that raised L's hackles. Raito did nothing without reason, and L worried about having his back to Raito. He didn't _think_ Raito would do anything to him, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure.

L watched as she listened to the flattery thrown at her. The girls were chattering about how pretty, how nice, how talented Misa Misa was. The model replied in a cutesy voice, graciously demurring, but L noticed how her eyes shifted around, checking her surroundings constantly. They had less than a minute to wait until she sighted them. To his disappointment, she didn't offer any visible reaction except for a nod of her head.

No point in dragging this out, then. "Misa Misa?" he said, raising his voice slightly and waving.

"Ah, there's my friend Ryuuka-kun!" she announced, looking down at the girls with an exaggerated grin. "I haven't seen him in weeks! Can you excuse me?"

A chorus of obedient voices accepted her excuse, and she murmured a thank you in response. Misa Misa then hopped down from the desk, landing gracefully on her feet. She retrieved a pair of black combat boots and slid her feet into them, before she hurried over to them, her glistening red lips spread in a welcoming smile. L noticed that she had very white teeth.

"Ryuuka-kun, it's so nice of you to visit! How are your studies going at Toudai?" she asked, blinking wide eyes.

L forced a smile to his face. She was letting him know that she'd researched into his cover. "Just fine, Misa-chan," he told her. He waved a hand toward Raito. "This is my best friend, Asahi Light."

Misa Misa gave Raito the elevator eye, her blatant appraisal starting at his face, traveling down his slender body, before returning to stare into his eyes. Raito's handsome face did its trick, L thought cynical, as Misa Misa shifted her posture into a more alluring position, offering a better view of her chest. "It's nice to meet you, Yagami-kun!" she said. "Have you known Ryuuzaki-kun for long?"

"Long enough," Light replied, and his smooth tenor voice had the slightest edge of huskiness. "Though he never told me he kept such charming company."

Misa Misa gave another brilliant smile. "You're very sweet!" she said.

L briefly considered saying something to point out how thick they were both laying it on, but luckily kept a rein on his tongue. "Do you have time to grab an early dinner with us?" he asked.

"I always have time for you! And your cute friends!" She brushed a kiss against Raito's cheek, before linking arms with him. L found himself gritting his teeth in irritation, though he didn't know which of them was the source – Misa Misa for acting like a twit with a crush, or Raito for playing along.

L felt the schoolgirls staring at their peculiar trio as they left. Raito, dressed preppily in his suit, Misa Misa still wearing her work clothes, with L himself slouching along right behind them. They had to look weird, L admitted to himself.

Misa Misa took nominal control, squealing about a "great place" she wanted to try to eat. Raito agreed in a casual manner, and L had no choice but to follow. He didn't like losing control of the situation. The idea of Misa Misa and Raito "ganging up" against him made a slow-burn of anger ignite in the pit of his stomach.

As soon as they arrived at the restaurant, L gave a mental wince. It was one of the pricey new chic places that served a slice of lettuce stacked with peas, and charged like the food was made of gold. He sorrowfully bid any hope of having a decent meal goodbye.

The place was the type to require reservations even in the middle of the afternoon, but Misa Misa's fame opened doors shut to ordinary mortals. It took the maitre d' all of thirty seconds to recognize her, and then the three of them were ushered to the best table in the house. A complimentary bottle of wine was offered and refused politely. They ordered immediately, all electing to choose sandwiches from the light dinner menu.

They settled themselves in, L choosing the chair that allowed him to keep an eye on both entrances, and his back to the wall. Raito sat across from Misa Misa, and had a better view of her face. The idol's smile finally faded as she dug in her purse to produce the watch L had given her. She set it on the table in front of them, a tangible reminder of the seriousness of the situation.

"Have you any luck?" she asked.

"Maybe," L said. He took a sip of water, and looked over at Raito.

"Do you know what a Death Note is?" Raito asked, point-blank.

L wanted to throttle him. He'd thought Raito understood the concept of _subtle._

The damage was done, though, and he focused his attention on the model's face. For an instant – almost too quickly passed for L to make sense of – he saw recognition, but that was quickly covered up by a finger pressing thoughtfully against pursed lips. She was a good actress, he thought, as she manufactured a look of thoughtfulness. "What is it?" she asked.

"We were hoping you might be able to tell us," L put in smoothly, picking up on Raito's lead. They would be discussing the need to keep cards hidden later, he swore. As soon as they got back to the relative privacy of their apartment.

"I've never heard of it," Misa Misa said, lying through her teeth.

L mentally washed his hands of trying to save her life at that moment. If she wasn't going to cooperate, then it wasn't his fault if she got murdered. "We think it might be connected to the case. It's come up in relation to one of Kira's victims," L told her.

"Oh," Misa Misa said, her eyes tracking to her right briefly before settling back on Raito speculatively.

Something was going on with her, L thought. If they gave her another day, she might confess what she knew. Having a death sentence hanging over her heard might really sink in when she entered the final day. People had a strong will to survive.

Raito was talking to her now, murmuring reassuring nothings that seemed to relax the model. Raito was good at dealing with women. Not only was he good-looking, but he had the ability to feign concern and interest.

Their waiter delivered their sandwiches, and L looked down at his with interest. The elegantly arranged ham with provolone was the size of his palm, not like the thick rye masterpieces he preferred at his favorite deli in New York. This delicacy sandwich had cost four times as much, and felt gypped.

He ate neatly, nibbling at the edges of the crustless wonder, and letting Raito handle the model. Neither of them touched their food, their attention focused entirely on the other. Misa Misa was looking at Raito like he hung the moon, and a sudden idea started to swirl in the back of L's mind. He took two bites to finish his miniaturized meal, then coughed politely to get their attention.

"I need to visit the restroom. Raito, if you could update Misa Misa-chan while I'm gone, we can get right down to business when I return," L said.

Raito nodded graciously, his face smoothly concealing whatever thoughts were going on in his brilliant mind. L was taking a gamble, but he figured Raito might be able to sympathetically charm what Misa Misa knew. He hoped the sign of trust might help make amends for what happened earlier.

"We'll be fine," Raito assured him.

L rose to his feet and loped off to the discreet restroom, marked in elegant gold lettering on a black door. He really didn't have to go, but he walked into a stall anyway, taking a seat and pulling out his cellphone. He tried Weddie's number, and got her voice mail. He left her a message to call him as soon as possible. It was probably a futile idea, since there was an eighty-seven percent chance she was already dead.

And the murderer was probably Misa Misa, his mind recognized reluctantly. He wished he could feel guilty about sending Weddie to her death. But Weddie was an operative who knew the risks involved. It was true that L hadn't anticipated the model being willing to kill to keep her secrets, but he should have. She seemed willing to die for them.

He glanced at the clock on his cellphone, noting that five minutes had passed. He should be heading back, although it was doubtful he'd been missed. L rose and went to the sink to wash his hands.

Just as he turned the water on, an ear-shattering scream rolled through the restaurant.


	18. Chapter 17: Say Ahh

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction

_by: aishuu_

* * *

_Part 17: "Say Ahh"_

It took L less than a second to evaluate what to do. The scream had sounded like a woman, middle-aged, if the way it cracked at the end was any indication. That ruled out Misa Misa and Raito, but he didn't think they were uninvolved. His instincts told him that it wasn't chance that something was happening at the restaurant they were eating.

It would be human nature to run outside and check, but if this was some kind of set up, he could be walking right into danger. However cowering in the bathroom wouldn't get him anywhere. He carefully shut the tap off to keep the sink from overflowing, took a calm, steadying breath, and went to the exit.

L pushed the door open, his eyes immediately landing on the source of panic. Raito was kneeling next to Misa Misa, who had blood dripping out from her mouth and down the front of her shirt. Around them, diners were looking on in horror, paralyzed by fear.

_Kira has made his move_, L thought. Recognizing that there was likely little personal danger – unless Misa had some blood born disease – he hurried to the table.

"What happened?" he asked Raito in a calm voice. Misa Misa was moaning, and the blood was pouring out of her mouth.

Raito looked shaken, L thought. Raito was usually able to divorce himself from the emotion inherent in any situation, but his face was drawn tight. While he had often viewed pictures of carnage, he hadn't been directly involved before. "She's bit her tongue," Raito said. "Right through. I think she's going to bleed to death."

Misa Misa made another moan, clutching at Raito's hand, but was unable to say anything L could see the terror of realization in her eyes. L knelt down on her other side and picked up her other hand, which she squeezed frantically, her sharp nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

"She's going to bleed to death," L echoed. Glancing up, he looked at the maitre d' fluttering around uselessly. It was obvious the man wanted to do something, but had no clue where to start. "Have you called an ambulance? Checked to see if there is a doctor in the house?"

The man shook his head. "No, no- I mean-"

"Go call an ambulance right now," Raito said sharply, not looking away from the injured model. His hand was on her back, making soothing circles.

The maitre d', relieved to have some direction, immediately scurried off to obey the command. L, impatient, decided to at least try to get things moving. "Is there anyone with medical training here?" he screamed at the top of his lungs, though he doubted the best doctor in the world would be able to save the model. The timing of this was too perfect. It was Kira, he thought, and Kira never made a mistake. Once Kira set his sights on a target, that person died.

No one immediately volunteered their services, and L realized he'd have to do something. He could be wrong; this could be coincidence, and there might be a chance to save her. L never gave up without a fight. "Open her mouth, we'll see if we can stop the bleeding," L said.

Raito nodded, raising his free hand without fear to pry open Misa Misa's mouth. He murmured something low and soothing, and the model unclenched her jaw. The inside of her mouth was full of blood, and L was amazed she wasn't choking on it. Part of her tongue was missing, he noticed, trying to push aside the queasiness in his stomach.

He didn't know that much about first aid. Getting the bleeding stopped should be the priority, but he was afraid that putting something in her mouth would close her airway. He did remember the old emergency care axiom about "breathing, blood, burns, bones" well enough to know that keeping her airway open was priority.

"Breathe through your nose," he encouraged Misa, before grabbing one of the cloth napkins off the table. "You need to stay calm, and don't panic."

She nodded, and he was amazed she hadn't passed out yet. The blood was coming too quickly. He rolled the napkin up neatly, before placing it in her mouth, trying not to push it in far enough to engage her choke reflex. "Bite down on it, and apply pressure. It will help stop the bleeding so we can get you some help," he told her, lying through his teeth. He was pretty sure she was a goner.

"Where's the ambulance?" Raito asked, directing the question over L's shoulder. A mumbled reply from the maitre d' said something about a delay due to a major traffic accident. "Damn it!" Raito hissed, turning back to Misa Misa, whose eyes were starting to flutter. He pressed a hand against her neck, checking the pulse. "I think she'd going into shock."

"Slap her," L ordered coldly. "If she goes unconscious, that's it."

Raito glared at L quickly, but picked up her hand, pinching her skin hard enough to draw blood. "Misa, you can't go to sleep," he said intensely. "I need you to focus on me. Help's going to be here soon."

Her eyes drifted toward him, but didn't settle there. She was staring at a point over Raito's shoulder, and L admitted to himself that no matter what they did, she was going to die. There was only one thing left to do: try to get what she knew.

"Misa-chan?" L said softly. "Do you know who did this to you?" He stared at her blood-covered face, hoping she would be able to gesture something meaningful.

Raito looked at him, a furious expression on his face, but L shook his head slightly to indicate that now was not the time to fight. He saw the realization pass over Raito's face, followed by frustration at his helplessness. Then Raito nodded, his face smoothed over with determination as he acknowledged what was going to happen.

"Squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no," Raito said, shifting his grip on the model's hand.

She didn't make a move, and L wondered if the pain was too much for her to think.

"Don't you want to get the bastard who did this?" Raito said. His voice was husky, and L couldn't help but think that an angry Raito was one of the scariest things he'd ever seen. His anger was cold, honing his concentration to an edge. He would be dangerous like this, becoming utterly ruthless in pursuit of his goals.

Misa Misa squeezed Raito's hand so tightly that L wondered if she was breaking his fingers. Then she released it.

"Was it Kira?" Raito asked, not flinching.

Another pain-inspiring squeeze. L had about twenty questions he wanted to ask – yes or no answers were better than nothing – but it would be best to leave the questioning to Raito. The girl was focusing on him, which was a miracle considering the amount of pain she had to be in. L had been right when he had observed that Misa Misa wasn't just an ordinary idol.

"Do you know how Kira is killing his victims?"

Another yes. L wanted to tear his hair out in frustration; if the stupid girl had told him in the first place that she knew what was going on, maybe he'd have been able to save her. But she had kept secrets, and he had a feeling that it wasn't entirely out of innocence on her behalf.

"Is it the Death Note?" Raito asked. "Is that related to how Kira is killing people?"

There was a long hesitation, and for a second L wondered if she was too far gone to answer. Then her hand twitched, and she gave another squeeze.

L bit his lip hard enough to keep from saying anything. This was the break he'd been waiting for two years to have. His head was spinning as the possibilities started to open up in front of him – Kira was going _down_ and L would have the satisfaction of being the one to bring him in. Now that he knew the method, he'd be able to narrow down the hunt. But he couldn't ask directly, so he had to rely on Raito. Hopefully his partner was up to the challenge.

"Do you have a Death Note? Did you kill people using it?" Raito asked the questions L would have if their situations were reversed, and L could have kissed him.

Her lashes started to flutter again, and L wondered if she would be able to answer before she died. She slid her hand away from Raito, and pointed over his shoulder – the same empty place she'd been staring before. She mouthed something. L knew how to read lips, and even through the blood, he understood. _Onegai._

Whatever it was she was asking, L didn't have a chance to consider. All of the sudden she slumped forward, Raito and L catching her before she fell to the floor. From the blank look in her eyes, it was clear she was dead.

L and Raito stared at each other, unable to find anything to say. L looked down at his hands, noticing how Misa Misa's blood was staining his hands. One second she'd been bleeding, and then she'd just died. It was sudden, too sudden, and he gritted his teeth. "Damn it," L cursed aloud. "Just... damn it."

He wasn't that upset she was dead, since he knew she was responsible for the deaths he'd uncovered while researching her background. He was _pissed_ that she'd died on his watch, and that Kira had changed the rules. _Damn it! I was supposed to have another two days!_ he thought in frustration.

The way Kira had silenced the potential lead – both literally and figuratively – was arrogant and brutal. It was taunting, to kill her right in front of two of the only people who actually believed in Kira's existence. It was a message, a blatant display of power. Well, L wasn't about to take it lying down.

"Now what?" Raito asked.

L didn't get a chance to answer, because the door burst open and two medics rushed in. L looked around and noticed all the diners were gone, likely moved to the next room by the wait staff. "You're too late," he told the emergency personnel, who pushed both him and Raito aside to make vain attempts to revive her.

L could feel the blood drying on his skin, but knew better than to try to go wash it off. "We'll need to wait for the police to question us," he said flatly. He loathed the thought of getting tied up in an investigation, but leaving unexpectedly would raise even more questions. Chances were that the death – like almost all Kira-related deaths – would be ruled accidental. Mentally he prepared to assume the role of the concerned, shocked friend.

Raito nodded, and gestured for L to follow him to a nearby table. They sat down across from each other, both wearing grim expressions. "We need to find her note," Raito said softly. "I don't think it was on her – her purse is barely big enough to hold a tube of lipstick, and she had that watch in it."

"I'll get it back later," L said, unconcerned. The watch wasn't all that special, and chances were investigators wouldn't think to take it apart. Even if they did, they couldn't trace it to him easily. "I'll see if someone can go by and get her notes while we're in questioning." Weddie might be dead, but there were others. Now that Misa Misa was dead, too, there was a chance they might find what they needed.

"You do that," Raito said, before resting his hands on the table. "Maybe-"

Another interruption. The police had arrived, and started to spread out. L braced himself for the forthcoming inquisition - but he was surprised when he caught a glimpse of the plainclothes man who headed toward them.

L recognized the man, although the man had never met him in person. He said nothing, waiting for the introduction. If this man was here, then L's case was even more delicate than he'd thought.

"Excuse me, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," the man said in a smooth, confident voice that managed not to be condescending. He opened up his wallet and flashed an official FBI badge. "I'm Agent Ray Penber, and there's some questions I need to ask you."


	19. Chapter 18: Red

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction

_by: aishuu_

* * *

_Part 18: Red_

They were removed to the nearest precinct, driven in a nondescript vehicle. L spent the whole time thinking about what had happened and what was going to happen. He hadn't anticipated Kira going outside his usual pattern and killing early. He hadn't anticipated being dragged in as a homicide suspect. And he certainly hadn't anticipated meeting a former ally who could totally fuck things up if he asked the right – or wrong – questions.

Penber sat in the front passenger seat, staring out the window. Every now and then his eyes would flick to the rear view mirror to catch a glimpse of the other passengers. Raito wore a tired expression, abandoning his usual erect posture to slump against the seat. L wasn't sure how much of his exhaustion was genuine, and how much of it was an act. He wasn't sure of anything right now, and that was the problem.

They rode for fifteen minutes in that silent car before they finally arrived. Someone opened the door on the outside, and Penber asked – ordered – them to follow him. Raito and L walked together, close enough that each could reach out and touch the other if they had desired to. They didn't say anything, but L kept Raito in the corner of his eye, concerned about his pallor. This was Raito's first real trial, and while he'd handled the situation well so far, it was possible he could break.

Though L had long worked with law enforcement, he had a phobia about being surrounded by them. Police officers were usually on the side of justice, but law and order took a higher priority with them. It was a razor-thin difference of perception that seemed like a gaping chasm whenever L dealt with them. He liked keeping the upper hand, but this whole mess was beyond his control.

They were shown to an interrogation room, and offered seats in two wooden, stiff-backed chairs. Aside from a table, there was nothing in the white room except for a panel of glass on one side, obviously meant for observation. Penber summoned an aide before sitting down across from the two of them. It was interesting they were being questioned together, L thought. Very interesting, and definitely outside of the ordinary.

"This will take a couple moments. Would you like something to drink? There's coffee and tea, and we probably have some hot chocolate somewhere," Penber said.

Normally L wouldn't have hesitated to ask for the hot chocolate, but his hands were still covered with blood. L looked over at Raito, noting the stains on his sleeves, at curious odds with Raito's usual veneer of perfection. It had to be driving him nuts.

"No," L said, as Raito declined with a curt shake of his head. "We just watched a friend die. Why are the police involved?"

"There's some irregularities surrounding Amane Misa's death." Penber stared at them. "I'm hoping you might be able to offer some clarification."

"We'll do what we can," Raito said before L could think up a reply, and suddenly he was all earnest student, the son of a police officer. He placed his hands in front of him on the table, indicating through body language that he had nothing to hide.

Penber glanced between them, before settling his attention of Raito. "I understand you're the son of Yagami Soichirou," he said softly.

"Yes," Raito said softly. "He passed away a while ago."

"I know," Penber replied. "It was a loss to law enforcement."

L watched with a curious expression, though his mind was running a mile a minute. Yagami had been thoroughly discredited at the time of his demise, and while it was a politically correct thing to tell his grieving son, it was also a lie. Something in Penber's voice made him question that assumption, and he wondered if the FBI was more interested in Kira's existence than they'd let on in the past.

"We're not here to talk about my father," Raito said, cutting to the chase. "What do you want to ask us? I'd like to go home and get cleaned up." He looked pointedly down at his red-splashed clothing.

Penber nodded, and pulled a recorder out of his pocket. "I'm going to record this," he told them, clicking the machine on and setting it in the center of the table. L wasn't impressed; he recognized that there was probably a video camera on them now, and the tape recorder was meant to make them assume that was the only method of documentation taking place.

He started to ask them questions, the standard ones that all investigations started with – name, age, occupation, place of residence... L and Raito both answered them, with Raito telling the strict truth and L lying the whole time. He submerged his mind in the identity of a student, intelligent but focused on his own life.

"Why were you meeting with Amane Misa today?" Penber asked.

"I'm a fan of hers- I mean, I was a fan of hers," L said, letting his voice break just a little. "I met her at a photo shoot recently, and she agreed to have lunch with us. I brought Raito-kun along because I wanted him to meet her."

Penber was cool and didn't react. "Did she seem uneasy to you?"

"Not really," L replied. "Not that we knew her all that well, but she was pretty cheerful."

"What did you talk about?" Penber asked.

"The shoot today, and a bit of the get-to-know-you stuff," Raito replied. "I tried to describe some of my classes, but she wasn't interested. She flirted a bit with me, though." He said it calmly, with the assurance of a man who was used to attracting such attention.

"What did you think of her?" Penber asked, directing the question at Raito.

"She was pretty, but I wasn't interested," Raito replied.

"Were you?" Penber asked, looking toward L.

"No. I'm already involved with someone," L replied. He very carefully avoided looking at Raito. _Think like you're Ryuuka Hideki , closeted gay college student who's living with his 'one twu luv.'_ "But she was very intriguing. She's one of those people who are – I mean, she was – fascinating." _At least while investigating the case_.

"Do you know why she was interested in talking to you two? Famous model hanging out with college kids doesn't seem normal."

"Why not?" Raito asked. "She was a normal girl, and she probably wanted some friends."

"I see," Penber said softly, tapping his fingers on the table. "Do you know about Kira?" Penber asked, changing the focus of the questioning suddenly. L recognized it as a tactic designed to keep subjects off-balanced.

"Kira?" Raito raised his eyebrows. "That was the last case my father was working on, I believe," he said. His lips compressed and though his words were casual, the white-knuckled hands hinted at stress.

"I've read a couple web sites on the idea," L said, cutting in. "Not sure if I buy into the idea, though."

"Were you aware that Amane Misa had been threatened by Kira?"

"Why would anyone threaten her?" L asked, nibbling on his lower lip. "Especially Kira?"

"We're not sure," Penber said, lying through his teeth. "That's currently under investigation."

"Do you think Kira killed her?" Raito asked. "Could Kira make someone kill themselves like that?"

"We're considering all options," Penber replied diplomatically.

The questioning turned on L and Raito's political affiliations, desires and relationship with each other. They answered them all smoothly, but lied – obviously – when it came to their living situation. "We're just friends," Raito said defensively. He flicked his eyes over at L.

Penber was good, L thought, but he didn't miss the slight tightening of the older man's features. Raito was playing into their new cover perfectly, and L wondered if it would actually work. Penber asked another question, but he seemed to have lost the control of the interview. Funny how people got so hung up over the idea of homosexuality. Especially supposedly liberated Americans.

Five minutes later, Penber made an excuse to step out, promising to be back shortly. L and Raito sat alone in the room, although both knew they were still being observed. Raito slid his eyes to the mirror behind them, before turning his attention to L.

He picked up L's hand, and brushed a kiss across his knuckles, playing for the observers in the other room. L tried not to shudder at the delicate touch that sent a wave of adrenalin careening like a cheerleader on crack through his veins. "Are you doing okay, Hideki?" he asked.

"I don't know," L replied, reminding himself to _think homosexual love affair_. "I mean... God, it was horrible. I'm going to have nightmares tonight."

Raito smiled softly. "It'll be okay," he said. "I'll be with you."

"Do you think Kira is following you?" L asked, licking his lips with feigned nervousness and concern. "I mean, you told me you thought he killed your father-"

Raito pressed a finger against L's mouth to keep him from speaking any further. "Kira's not important," he said. "What matters is that we live our lives, and not let him interfere with us. We're going to get through this together."

Their discussion was so saccharine it could have induced diabetes. L would have given up his nightly dessert to witness what the investigators behind the glass thought of the display. He wore an appropriate worried look on his face, even though he really wanted to break into a fit of laughter. Raito was being such a sap.

Luckily the slight scrape of the door against the floor interrupted them, and L jerked his hand away from Raito's with a guilty air. A pretty young policewoman walked in, wearing a a crisp uniform and a wide smile on her face. "Unfortunately something's come up, and Penber-san had to leave. We're sorry for inconveniencing you, but you'll need to come back at a later date."

L wondered if their gay act had really disgusted Penber that much – and doubting it. Penber was up to something. Penber had a reason for letting them go. It was likely they were going to be tracked.

"We'll need to call for a ride," L said. "And our cell phones were taken by security."

"No problem! You can use one of our phones," the policewoman said in a scarily perky voice. "You can sign yours out after your ride arrives."

Their contacts lists and all information would be copied by then, L thought darkly. "I'll go call my uncle to get us," L said, turning his head to Raito. "No point in interrupting your mother this late in the evening."

Raito nodded. "Sounds good. Ask him to bring us some fresh clothes?" He held up his hands, drawing attention to the sleeves.

"Sure thing," L agreed, and then followed the policewoman out of the room. The office L was taken to was much like any other police facility he's ever seen. The police woman – Satou, by her name tag – picked up the receiver and punched in a code – 5898 – before handing it over to him. "What number?"

He recited one of Watari's emergency numbers, a cell phone which could easily be disposed of. She dialed, then handed it to him quickly.

Watari picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Watari-jiisan?" The form of address would notify his aide that something was seriously wrong, and that the conversation was being monitored. It was standard procedure to record all calls from the jail, and a couple less-bright criminals had practically convicted themselves by doing something incriminating. L wasn't about to fall into such an elementary trap.

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm currently sitting in the Azabu jail," L said, hoping his voice conveyed the right level of anxiety to the eavesdropping officer.

"Oh, my. Were you drinking?" An appropriate reply from a concerned relative; a code between manservant and master.

"No," he said. "We happened to be eating out with Misa-chan, and there was an accident."

"Is everything okay?" Watari was asking for instructions, because _of course_ L wouldn't call if he could handle things by himself.

"No, I'm afraid Misa-chan is dead," he said softly, letting his voice shake on the end.

A long pause as Watari considered the options. "What happened?"

L sketched out the events leading up to the model's death, careful to sound like a concerned, frightened college student. "Can you come and get me? And bring me and Raito some new clothes?"

"I can be there in an hour," Watari answered, and L heard the shuffling noise that indicated the manservant had started moving.

"Thank you," he whispered, hanging up the phone.

The policewoman gave him a gentle smile, and for a second L was concerned she was going to try to pat him or something to offer comfort. "Is your uncle coming to take you home?"

"Yes," he lied. "I just want to go home."

As he followed her back, he mentally crossed his fingers. Penber was up to something; the question was if L and Raito could outwit him. It wasn't much of a contest, really. While the detective was _one_ of the best, L was _the_ best, and it'd take more than an FBI agent to entrap him.


	20. Chapter 19: The Road Home

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction

_by: aishuu_

* * *

_Part 19: The Road Home_

Watari was as good as his word, and within an hour Raito and L were collecting their personal items. They changed out of their blood-stained clothes, letting a police officer bag them for evidence. L mentally wrote those off as a loss, knowing that he was unlikely to see the outfit again. It wasn't a huge loss – the charges dry cleaners levied to get blood out hardly made it worth even trying to salvage the clothing.

After collecting their cell phones, they were released, though the officer signing them out warned they'd have to stay available to the investigation. Both of them murmured acceptance, then follow Watari out sedately.

They slid into the back of the car, side by side. Raito's worried expression was more for the benefit of any possible onlookers than genuine concern, L knew.

"Do you want to go home?" Watari asked.

"I want to get something to eat first, ojiisan," L said. "Hot chocolate or some other comfort food would be really good right now." He picked up his cell phone, and tossed it to Raito. "Are you going to call your mother?" he asked. "She's probably worried."

Since it was unlikely Yagami Sachiko even knew of the whole incident, Raito stared back at L, trying to figure out what he was after. L could see the careful calculation going on in Raito's face, which ended with Raito's eyes narrowing as he came to the correct conclusion. "I'll call her later," he said, nodding slightly.

L looked at his own phone, sighing regretfully. He'd been fond of this model, but it was likely that a tracker or eavesdropping device had been installed. It wasn't like he'd kept anything really important on it, but the idea of giving it up because of the police irked him. They weren't competent enough to find Kira, and now there were going to mess with his investigation.

The car started to move, and L rolled his window down. Raito, catching on, threw his phone back to him, which L conveniently "missed" catching. The phone went out the window, and Raito scowled fiercely. "You klutz!" he said fiercely. "Watari, stop so we can get it!"

"What's the point? It's probably broken," L said nonchalantly.

Raito grabbed L's phone out of his hand, and chucked that out the window, too, finishing the act brilliantly. "How do you like that?" he snapped.

"Quite well, Raito-kun," L said, offering him a slight smile. "Brilliant performance."

Raito's angry demeanor vanished, like turning off a light switch. "You think they were bugged, too?"

"Almost certainly. It's the only explanation that makes sense," L said.

Watari coughed loudly, indicating he's like to be in on the discussion. He was a smart man, but keeping up with two of the foremost intellects in Japan – maybe even the world – was beyond mere "smart men." To L's surprise, Raito actually accepted the hint.

"The police let us go to see what we were up to," Raito said quietly. "They suspect one or both of us of being Kira, but that's hard to prove, so they bugged our phones."

"And we ditched them in a somewhat convincing fashion," L said. "Or at least one which is excusable."

"What about a tail?" Raito wondered. "I'm pretty sure Penber's following us."

"Watari's already shaken it," L replied. "Though we're going to have to ditch this car."

"Why are they suspicious of you?" Watari asked. He carefully navigated a curve, turning right onto a side street, and then making another two right turns so they doubled back on their route onto a parallel street.

"Obviously the official Kira investigation isn't as dead as I was led to believe," L said thoughtfully, looking out his window. First Interpol, now the FBI. They obviously hadn't made the connection between Ryuga Hideki and L, but it was only a matter of time.

"Did you clear out our apartment?" he asked Watari.

"I sent Mello to take care of it," Watari replied.

"He's erratic," L said, frowning. The boy was brilliant, but his disposition was such that L didn't trust him at all. Of course, L didn't trust _anyone_ but there was something unstable in Mello that was dangerous when combined with his formidable intellect.

"He'll get it done," Watari said, not at all concerned at L's lack of faith. "He's never failed before."

L almost pointed out that this would be a bad time to really put him to the test. But that didn't matter, because what was done couldn't be changed. Getting Mello mixed up in this whole mess was a bad idea.

He looked over at Raito, and realized that he already had done worse. _At least Mello is predictable through his sheer unpredictability,_ L thought. And Mello _would_ be a good person to ask an essential favor of, since he so badly wanted to have L name him his heir.

"Fine. Send him to Amane Misa's place, and tell him to look for a notebook. I'm not sure what it looks like, but it should be labeled 'Death Note,'" L said. "Have it brought to me immediately – it's top priority."

Mello was also ruthless enough to track down the Death Note, if the police had already found it. Mello stopped at nothing to get what he wanted; L decided turning a blind eye might be the best way to handle the situation.

Amazingly Raito didn't deign to comment on L's decisions. L wondered if he was storing it up for when they were alone. L listened as Watari made the call, holding the steering wheel with one hand as he handled his cellphone with the other. After a brief conversation, Watari hung up and announced the matter taken care of.

Raito was tapping his hand against his knee in a thoughtful manner. "Is it possible Matsuda's involved more deeply than we thought?" Raito suggested. "It's very possible that he was sent to give you a 'head's up' as a way to gage your reaction. I also find it interesting that the FBI responded to the... accident scene," and the hesitation was so slight as to be unnoticeable except to someone of L's abilities, "rather than the local police and emergency squad."

"Anything possible," L said. He had thought he'd figured Matsuda out, but lately he'd been running into the fact that he wasn't perfect. People could always go outside predictions. Nothing was ever one hundred percent guaranteed in the world.

Raito's logic about Matsuda made a lot of sense. L kicked off his shoes, and crouched onto the car seat more comfortably so he could think things through.

The law enforcement – Japanese police and the American FBI – could now be counted among his opposition. He wondered if they would elect to send out some kind of false-notice once it became clear that Raito and L had left. It would be easy to end up accused of the crimes he was trying to solve. With the exception of Kira – and possibly Raito – there was no one else who knew more about the killings.

And when frustrated, there were many in power that liked to use scapegoats. L knew how that scenario tended to work out. He must have been quiet for too long, because Raito was staring at him with. "What is it?" Raito asked.

"You're not going to like it," L said. Raito was going to hate it, he mentally added.

Raito leaned a hand against the window, and turned his head to watch the passing traffic. "What is it?" he repeated.

Even without Raito's eyes on him, L knew that lying would be a bad idea. "We're going to have to go underground," L said.

"I figured that would be the case," Raito said calmly. "You don't ditch a police tail without raising suspicions."

"That means you're going to have to drop out of college, severe ties with your family, the works." L wondered if Raito had actually had a chance to really think things through, and realized what he was giving up. "If we fail to find Kira, you can kiss all your ambitions goodbye."

"You think I don't know this?" Raito asked.

"I think you've never suffered a setback like this before," L said. "Up until now, you've been able to operate without having to set aside your normal life. Tell me, Raito-kun, are you willing to sacrifice your reputation, as your father did?"

"What do I have to do to convince you I'm serious?" There was frustration in Raito's voice.

L considered the question. "I don't think you can. There's an old saying, 'Trust no one.'"

Rather than get annoyed, some of Raito's indignation seemed to fade, and then Raito was laughing, his shoulders shaking. L frowned in puzzlement, wondering if Raito was cracking under the strain. "Why does it not surprise me that you're an _X-files_ fan?"

"It was a fun show. Do you believe in aliens?"

"Not until I met you," Raito returned as he composed his expression.

That was it. L broke down in laughter, unable to believe what he'd just heard. There were times when he was convinced that Raito had no sense of humor, only to be confronted by a very dry wit unexpectedly. His laughter set Raito off again, and they both laughed past the point of reason until they sounded hysterical. Watari shot L a couple of confused looks, which only made L laugh harder.

It wasn't that funny, L realized as he finally pulled himself together. He didn't dare look at Raito, for fear of breaking into another fit. This conversation was getting ridiculous, especially with the trouble they were in.

A couple of minutes passed before Raito spoke. "I'll tell my mother I ran off with my gay lover. That should keep people off my back."

L couldn't think of anything to say to that. All that mattered was that Raito was as committed as L himself. He nodded, turning his thoughts back to the case. Aside from the police lining up as possible adversaries, he'd lost something greater in the last couple of hours.

Amane Misa had been the key to the case – and now she was dead. He had written off Weddie as well, since he knew she would have reported in.

Did Misa kill Weddie? Or was it Kira?

_Did Misa use the Death Note, whatever that is? Does Kira have a Death Note as well? How many of them are there, and how do they work?_

Kira had the ability to kill people from a distance. Since that power existed, it wasn't impossible that a second person would possess it as well. That would explain Misa. And if Kira had figured that out that she could kill the same way...

_Kira was killing a rival... and sending me a message._

Moreover, L was convinced that Kira had the power to control people's actions right before their deaths. Somehow he'd set it up so Misa had led Kira to L.

He felt his stomach clench as he realized what that whole gruesome death scene had been about. "Kira was there," L said.

"Excuse me?" Raito blinked at the non sequitur.

"Kira was at the restaurant. He watched Misa Misa die," he said.

L didn't have enough evidence to support his theory, but L was ninety-nine percent sure he'd uncovered the solution. Instinct, as well as intellect, played a key role in his work. He started gnawing on his thumb, trying to decide what to do next.

"He knew Misa Misa would die there?" Raito was clutching the seat, hard enough to dig holes into the upholstery.

"Yes," L said. "It's the only thing that makes sense. Why else change the game? He was using her to get to me." L's stomach twisted. He had protected his name, but Raito's cover wasn't as good. It wouldn't take too much to figure out that "Asahi Raito" was really "Yagami Raito."

And Kira had already killed the father; killing the son wouldn't matter to the sociopathic genius.

From Raito's pallor, he was thinking the same. To his credit, he didn't panic. Instead he shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. "We'll need to see the restaurant's security footage, and get the reservation list," Raito said. "Maybe Kira is getting reckless."

"Maybe." L knew that empty words of reassurance wouldn't help. He could offer some kind of trite promise to do his best to protect Raito, or a vow to catch Kira before he could strike, but that would be untrue. If Kira had Raito's name, it was Kira's choice when he'd lash out.

But that didn't make this any easier. Thankfully Watari chose that moment to intervene. "Excuse me, sir, but we've been driving for nearly ninety minutes. Do you have a destination in mind?"

L did. The Imperial was one of the hotels L had kept Raito from knowing about. It was a pricey, famous spot, used to shielding the privacy of its guests. L had retained a permanent suite for years, although he'd never actually stayed there. Hopefully the obscene price range would keep the police from considering it as a possible location to find L. They also had a wonderful pastry chef on staff, which L considered an extra perk.

And if Kira was going to kill them, it was best to live in style. He refused to feel guilty for putting Raito's life on the line – but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to make up for it, if only a little bit.

"We'll change cars in Otemachi, and then you can take us to the Imperial," L decided. Turning to Raito, he raised a questioning eyebrow. "It's not much, but I guess it's home for now."


	21. Chapter 20: Plunder

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction

_by aishuu_

_**NOTE: This section has been heavily edited for fan fiction dot net. The original is located on my fic journal, quillofferings (check profile for link). To access it, simply join the quillofferings community.  
**_

* * *

_Part 20: Violence; pillage/plunder; extortion _

There was a different kind of tension in the investigation now that L had a personal stake. While Raito irritated him, L valued their friendship. He didn't want to see Raito end up as another victim in the Kira case file.

He wondered if Raito had figured it out; likely. There was no need to discuss the danger; doing so would only heighten Raito's anxiety levels. Which would affect his reasoning ability. Possibly – L was learning that Raito was constantly upsetting his expectations.

"Do you mind if I grab the shower first?" Raito asked as they slumped into the room.

"Go ahead," L said, even though he wanted to wash the remnants of Misa's blood off something fierce. However, Raito had definitely been more thoroughly splattered, and it would be best to be generous. "I'll order room service – is there anything you want to eat?"

L wondered if he was imagining it, or if Raito actually turned a bit green. "No, thank you. I'm not very hungry right now," Raito replied quickly, before entering the bedroom.

The suite was a modest one for the hotel, containing only three rooms – a large lounging area, a bathroom nearly as large, and a single bedroom. The lounging area would have to have part of it dedicated as "office space." Depending on how long they remained there.

L went over to the phone, and requested about six desserts be sent up, asking for a can of whip cream and bottle of chocolate syrup as well. They would probably assume that he wanted it for some kind of sex play; let them. What L desperately craved was the infusion of sugar. It always helped him think.

The room was too large for him to hear the shower running, but he was sure Raito was going to take a while. Raito had never been this close to death. He had lost his father, but he hadn't been there. As far as L could tell, this was the first time Raito had ever seen anyone die. Taking the shower would give Raito a chance to organize his thoughts and come to terms with what had happened. L would let him have a couple minutes alone now. It was going to be a long night.

Watari brought in their laptops and computers about half an hour later, wordlessly setting them up. L logged into his machine, but left Raito's off, since there was no telling what kind of suicide drive Raito had. For most people, he would have been able to figure out the password applying a bit of common sense, but it was likely Raito had decided on a truly random sequence of numbers and letters that didn't have a logical pattern. There were advantages to an eidetic memory, after all.

L checked his email accounts for any word. Mello had sent a snippy email about getting long in the tooth along with inquiring if he's finally found the man of his dreams. It was sheer Mello all over, straddling the line between passive aggressive and pleading for attention. L sent back a short, polite thanks for his help. It was best to keep Mello content, if it didn't take too much effort.

The news reports were starting to cover Misa's death. L wasn't surprised at how sketchy they were, although two "persons of interest" were mentioned being questioned as possible suspects. L shut his eyes, wondering how long it would be before Penber decided to send out an APB requesting their apprehension.

Damn it, he thought. It might require relocating outside of Japan. L wondered what Raito would think of that – and then he realized Raito had been in the shower for over an hour. It was highly unusual behavior from the efficient young man.

And L was _still_ dirty. He wanted a shower himself. He wondered if the younger man had done something extreme in reaction to the whole day. _Or maybe Kira..._ He stopped the thought before it could fully form.

Kira wasn't going to kill Raito quietly. Kira was a showman, and if he went after Raito, it would be a spectacle, not an apparent suicide in a bathroom.

He locked his computer before heading for the bathroom and knocking on the door. "Raito? Are you okay?" L asked.

No reply. L would have thought Raito would at least tell him to leave him alone. Gnawing on his lower lip, he recognized that the situation had gone far enough. "Raito? Open the door," he ordered.

Still no reply. L decided to screw manners and just barge right in. To his surprise, the door wasn't locked, which meant he didn't need to break it down. "Raito?" he called. "I'm coming in," he announced, giving Raito one last chance to act like a sensible person and reply.

The mirror was fogged with condensation, and L could only make out his blurred reflection. Like the rest of the luxury hotel, the room was large and opulent, with a large, in-floor bath and a shower stall that looked like it could hold twelve comfortably. The shower was running, and Raito was in it, but he'd left the door open, causing water to splash out and make a mess.

Highly out of character for Raito's compulsively orderly self, L thought as he made his way across the room, feeling the moistness against his bare toes. But Raito had a reason to be worried.

Raito was sitting on the floor of the shower, his arms wrapped around his knees. He was staring up at the ceiling, with rivulets of water trailing down his handsome face. He looked fragile, L thought, and was stunned. He had never considered Raito anything less than one of the most formidable people he'd ever known.

L swore then and there he'd take it out of Kira's hide.

He shook away the uncharacteristically emotional reaction. Now was not the time to lose his focus. Ignoring the water, L knelt down next to Raito. His clothes were getting soaked, but that was inconsequential. Something was really wrong. While he wasn't about to be _sympathetic_, it was a matter that needed to be addressed.

The water had turned cold, and L tried not to shudder as he got drenched. Raito still was ignoring him, and L considered leaving. Raito wasn't hurt or dead; maybe he needed time to reconcile what had happened. Time was the one thing they didn't have, he chided himself. "Are you alright?" L asked as he reached over to touch Raito's shoulder, wondering if Raito needed to be slapped out of his daze.

"I'm fine," Raito snapped, and turned his face up to L. His eyes were slightly dilated, and his lips pressed together in a line, tight line that made him look years older. The water trickled down his face, creating false tears as it traveled over his cheeks. It looked weird, since Raito wasn't the type to cry.

Raito wasn't upset or scared; he was furious.

L was taken aback; while he was aware that Raito had a temper, he'd never been intimidated by it before. But this time he was seriously reconsidering the wisdom of stepping into arm's range. But he'd made the decision, and now he had to deal with it. "No, you're not," he contradicted.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. Raito reached out and snagged him by the wrist before L had a chance to react. "Why wouldn't I be okay? The _thing_ that killed my father just committed murder right in front of me. And I have no way to prove it! Why the FUCK wouldn't I be okay?!"

L's eyes went wide in shock, amazed to see Raito so thoroughly unraveled. He could feel Raito's fingers digging into the insufficient flesh of his wrist, and worried about his physical safety. "You must try to calm down," he said soothingly.

"Calm down? You don't get it, do you? Doesn't anything upset you, you heartless invertebrate!" Raito snapped. "It must be easy to be brave when you're not risking anything you value!"

L thought that accusation frankly unfair, but wasn't about to point it out. Raito clearly wasn't rational. "What do you want me to say?" he asked, feeling out of his depth.

Raito pulled L closer. "There's nothing you can say," Raito admitted, before wrapping his free hand around the back of L's head and pulling him into a kiss.

L's mind nearly short circuited. This wasn't a ploy, this wasn't a part of there cover... a naked Yagami Raito was kissing him like he meant it. L would have tried to rationalize it, but Raito was trailing a hand up the back of L's soaked shirt, seeking skin. The light touch sent arousal careening through his body, and he groaned and grasped Raito by the shoulders.

Raito kissed like he was fighting. He used his teeth, nipping L's tongue in challenge before thrusting his own in and running it along L's teeth. A firm believer in turn about being fair play, L bit lightly back, earning a groan in return.

It was distracting, having so much stimulus at once, L managed to think resentfully. He'd always been an able multitasker, but feeling the touch of Raito's hands on his naked skin and the wet warmth of his mouth was distracting.

Somehow Raito managed to extract L's shirt from his body, despite the waterlogged fabric. It made a slopping sound as it hit the side of the shower, a sound which managed to echo in L's head and bring an ounce of sanity back to his thinking. Gasping, he pulled back, staring Raito in the face.

"Scared, L?" Raito challenged.

"Of you?" L replied, letting his scorn for that idea color his tone. L had yet to find anything in the world that could truly scared him. He'd yet to tag names onto what Raito made him feel, but _scared_ wasn't one of them. _Intrigue_ and _fascinated_, yes. But now wasn't the time to embrace his new aged male self; he was sitting half-naked on the shower floor.

With a very naked Raito, who was staring at him with a little smirk on his face. L didn't like that superior expression. Dropping his eyes for the first time, he smiled. "You don't have enough for me to be scared of, Raito-kun," he said sweetly.

Like the majority of men – with the notable exception of L himself – Raito didn't take well to having his manhood impugned. He growled slightly, and then he rose, jerking L to his feet. L found himself pushed against the shower wall.

L's normally impressive vocabulary deserted him. "Oh. Wow," he said.

"I'll give you wow," Raito muttered, before reaching down and unzipping L's pants.

* * *

L lay flat on his back, trying to catch his breath. Raito had been right, dammit. Wow. Oh, fucking _wow_. 

There were few things that were able to short-circuit his usual impeccable logic skills, but sex was something else entirely. Therefore he must either completely cut it out of his vocabulary, or make sure he wasn't going to be denied. Glancing over at Raito, who was staring blankly up at the ceiling, he knew which he preferred.


	22. Chapter 21: Cradle

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**_**  
**_

_by aishuu_

* * *

_Part 21: Cradle_

L woke first, and blinked up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what the warmth beside him was. It took a moment to remember what had happened earlier that night – technically yesterday, he realized as he checked the digital clock near the bed – but when the memory came, it was almost overwhelming.

L couldn't remember a time he had blushed, but his cheeks definitely felt warm as his near-perfect memory treated him to a Technicolor recall of the past few hours. Sex had felt _good_, but the incident only created additional complications for them to deal with. They had created a facade of a homosexual relationship, and now it had come true. There was something to be said for self-fulfilling prophecies.

He could hear the sound of Raito's breathing, and was relieved that his partner was still alive. Kira hadn't made a move yet, which meant their conclusion about Kira being present when Misa had died was incorrect, or that Kira was planning something a bit deeper. L thought it was the later, because that was the simplest answer. He didn't want to take a chance on hoping his earlier conclusion had been wrong. He wasn't ready to exchange saccharine kisses or cheesy "I love yous" with Raito, but L would regret it if he died prematurely.

L propped himself up on his elbow, cradling his chin in hand so he could study his... well, lover seemed to be the wrong word because half of the time he suspected Raito would cheerfully shove him into the middle of oncoming traffic if given the slightest excuse. But colleague was too generic, and while he'd like to think "friend" might someday be true, it didn't encompass the whole of their relationship.

Fuck buddies? It sounded crude, but what was between them was. He thoughtfully pursed his lips, deciding that definitions could wait until after Kira was captured.

L studied the hollow of Raito's shoulder, noting the toned muscle that lined his body. Everything about Raito was in condition, L noted with a sense of irritation. Raito was the kind of person who honed himself into ideal shape, not letting anything be less that its best. He looked for some imperfection in Raito's form, running his eyes down Raito's torso and face.

It took a bit of effort, but finally he found something to complain about. Raito's fourth toe was crooked, just a bit, forced into a strange shape from years of wearing shoes that didn't fit properly. Finding the flaw was reassuring to him. Raito was aggravating enough as it was.

The bed squeaked as L shifted his own body to find a more comfortable position. Raito slept neatly, with his arms tucked tightly to his sides as he lay in a fetal position but L was used to being able to sprawl out. Raito was a bit of a space hog, he noted, lying directly in the middle of the King-size bed. Trust Raito to be selfish even in his sleep.

But now wasn't the time to ruminate on Raito.

L rolled out of bed as quietly as he could, ignoring his unclad state. His mind was racing a mile a minute as the urgency of the situation started to get through his normally organized way of thinking. While he was a big believer in the scientific method, there were times of crisis when assumptions had to be made, and a conclusion reached in a hurry. He would not let Kira kill Raito.

He went to the bathroom to grab the complimentary bathrobe off the back of the door before stepping out into the suite's living area. He spent a couple of moments looking around for paper, pawing through the elegant desk. He would ignore the files and computers, and work with the information he already knew.

L located a pad of the hotel's stationary, emblazoned with maroon letterhead, and a similarly engraved fountain pen. It wasn't what he would have wanted, but maybe it was better to have something unfamiliar. There was something about writing things down by hand that made them seem more real, the facts indisputable. After filching chocolate truffles from the mini bar, he climbed up onto a large, blue-striped chair.

_Start from the beginning, _he thought. _When you reach a dead end, sometimes it's best to start down the path afresh._ He ripped off ten of the sheets and spread them out across a coffee table. He'd already done several time lines with his computers, but he could simplify. Making it three-dimensional might help him see things from a different angle.

Start time was the string of deaths that had happened more than three years ago, located in Chuo. Twenty-five people had dropped dead of heart attacks within thirty minutes of each other – L hadn't been able to pinpoint the times of death more accurately, but he believed they had all occurred at the same time. It was possible that Kira had been operating even earlier, but that was the first incident that had registered as unnatural.

Next had come the spate of heart attacks of politicians, with thirteen global leaders dying. After that there had been the series of strange deaths, with people dying in bizarre fashions that defied the laws of probability, one a day for a month. _Kira testing his capabilities, what he could do._

People had noticed, and Kira gained a name. The police created several tasks forces in several different countries, and Interpol had stepped up to the plate. That had brought L into the mix... but one by one, the police organizations had stepped back as politicians and the public criticized the foolish waste of resources to investigate "acts of God." Then there had only been the die-hards, the ones willing to understand the data they'd been given and defy conventional thought.

Like Yagami Soichirou.

As L worked, he could see how Kira was escalating, becoming more daring as time wore on. First anonymous deaths, then targeted ones, and now very intimate homicides. The turning point had been Yagami's-san's death, when Kira had made it personal. He knew his victims names in advance, and had liked to see them react to the threats. Kira was a sadist.

Kira had started to send notes to a variety of publications, making strange and sometimes contradictory demands. There had been no consistency in what he advocated, just that he was advocating something. He'd given them a chance to "reform" as well, keeping his word about sparing their lives if his whims were catered to.

Until Misa. Unlike all of the other victims, she was associated with a string of deaths. So Misa had likely been a personal death, too. How could Misa threaten Kira? She would have had to know who he was, if Kira's current pattern was correct. The only people who had died outside of Japan were people who had their names and pictures on the Internet.

_If she had the same power_, he thought. He'd been considering that after Raito had discovered the series of deaths surrounding the top model. The Death Note was likely the method of the killings.

L knew all that. But Misa was dead now, which left the question of the Death Note up in the air. She had been dead for less than twelve hours, and chances were good the police hadn't made it to her apartment. If they had, there was still the possibility the model had hidden her little black book too well to be found. Misa had been intelligent, too clever to hide something in a traditional place, especially after Weddie had invaded. Pulling out his cellphone, he sent a quick text to Mello, asking him to clean out Misa's living quarters.

A minute later, he received a confirmation from the teenage agent, complete with derogatory emoticon. He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. Mello was spirited, but L wasn't about to tell him _what_ he was hoping would be found. Mello could just ship the lot of her possessions to Watari.

And Watari could be trusted to pass on what L wanted. If L could get his hands on the Death Note, he could close the case. Having proof of Kira's methods would get him a hearing with Interpol, and direct Pember's investigation in the right direction. Then L could reform a task force and come down like a load of bricks on the criminal who'd _almost_ gotten the better of him.

But he was L, the world's greatest detective, and Kira was going to lose. He smiled as he laid out the last piece of his time line, writing "KIRA CAPTURED" using English capital letters. Sex had been great, but the euphoria that would bring L would be the proudest moment of his life.

Providing the game went according to plan. While he was hunting Kira, others were hunting him. The Hotel was a nice place, but L was knew it wouldn't remain so for long. Pember wasn't stupid, and he would eventually track them down.

Maybe it would be best to leave the country. While there might be an APB out on them, L knew of ways to slip through the system. To become a force of order, he'd learned exactly how to break the rules. Raito would not want to go, he knew. Raito would see it as a retreat.

But L wasn't about to leave Raito behind. After the Kira case was closed – and there would be an _after_ - there would be other options. Recent events had likely closed the doors on Raito's desire to become a policeman like his father, but that wasn't a concern. Raito was too good to be limited by the regulations of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. L could easily wrap Raito into his operational network permanently.

L glanced at the clock, noting it was nearly five in the morning. Raito would be up shortly, and if L wanted a shower, he'd need to get moving. He stuffed the last two truffles into his mouth, chewing as he moved toward the bathroom. When Raito woke up, they would discuss matters and make a decision on their next stage of action. Of course, L had already made the choice, but Raito would be smart enough to understand his logic.

Passing through the bedroom, L couldn't help but smile as he caught sight of Raito's shadowed form slumbering. Maybe he'd see if Raito wanted more sex. His studies and own personal habits led him to believe that many men woke up ready to engage in relations.

The bathroom was still a bit of a mess from Raito's earlier breakdown. The place was sopping wet, and the clothes Raito had been wearing had been dropped onto the floor. L nudged them aside with his toes, surprised to encounter an unexpected resistance. Bending over, he manipulated the fabric to see there was a small booklet inside of the sleeve.

_Death Note_, he read, and felt his breathing quicken as he realized what he had in his hands. 

Weddie's voice came from his memory. _"She has a small black book with 'Death Note' written in white letters._

A surge of unfamiliar rage swept through him, and had Raito been in front of him, L would have become a murderer at that moment. This might be tangible proof of Kira's existence – and he hadn't been told. How did Raito get hold of it? He wondered, trying to squelch the suspicion that Raito had betrayed him, but was unable to. He could not deny the truth, no matter how unwanted it was.

This was _it_, and... he didn't get a chance to finish the thought.

"You're a curious bastard, aren't you?" an unexpected voice said from behind him. The voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a long tunnel, echoing in a peculiar fashion.

L jumped a bit, amazed that someone had managed to sneak up behind him. Taking a deep breath, L turned his head, looking over his shoulder at his unexpected company.

And then he screamed, convinced he'd finally gone mad.

* * *


	23. Chapter 22: Candy

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**  
~ An Alternate Death Note Fanfiction ~  
_by: aishuu_  
Notes: So, I dropped out of 30_Kisses and without that deadline, this got backburnered. I will still be using the 30K themes since that's what this story is outlined to (for those of you curious, that means six more parts and one epilogue). Apologies for the delay, I'll try to be better. For those of you who want teasers of my fic, you can follow me on twitter under "aishuuyamada."

* * *

_Part 22: Candy_

L was an atheist, but the vision confronting him was making him reconsider his conviction. He was a firm believer in the evidence detected by his own eyes, and the monster looming in front of him was a rather strong argument that there was more to life than he'd known before.

The creature in front of him, logically, couldn't exist. While it had a humanoid form and size, it looked like it was constructed of bone, with pieces of shroud draped over its cursed figure in a mockery of clothing. Most of all, it was the scent that turned his stomach. For the epicurean L, scent was nearly as important as the sense of taste. He had smelled death before – a noxious mix of rot and decay – and this creature wore the fragrance as though it was perfume.

L's rational mind took all this in, but he wasn't able to control his outward, panicked reaction. He screamed so intensely that his throat hurt, but he was unable to stop. The creature just watched without any kind of expression on its face.

In the back of his mind, the small part of his senses that weren't engaged in a mental breakdown noted the sound of the bathroom door opening. But it was a muted awareness because L couldn't take his eyes off the monster.

"Ryuuzaki," Raito said, and his soft voice acted like a sedative, instantly stilling L's descent into hysteria. L never wanted to appear weak in front of him.

For a second, he wondered if the monster was some kind of hallucination brought on by fatigue, or if this was a dream based on his deeply-rooted paranoia, but Raito turned his head to the monster and addressed it directly. "I hope you're happy now," he said flatly.

The monster shrugged. "Happiness is a foreign concept to my kind."

L turned slightly so he could stare at Raito, trying to gather his scattered wits. The younger man was wearing black boxers, which rode low on his hips, and nothing else. A few minutes before, L would have appreciated the sight, but now it only served to undermine his folly. He and Raito had been intimate, but Raito hadn't trusted him with this vital piece of information for their case.

How in hell did Raito end up with the Death Note? Was it the one Amane Misa had possessed, or were there more than one? For that matter, exactly what was a Death Note?

Standing in that claustrophobic bathroom, L had never felt so alone. The tension in the air crackled, and the monster stood between them, the proverbial elephant in the room suddenly given frightening substance.

He could either confront Raito for hiding vital information, or try to communicate with the monster. The most logical path would be to define what the monster was before taking Raito to task.

"What are you?" he asked the monster, since the thing had previously spoken and he didn't want to inadvertently slight it by treating it like it was unintelligent. Though calling it a "what" probably wasn't diplomatic, either. He shifted his head so his gaze was directed at the creature, but Raito remained visible out of the corner of his eye.

"You may call me Rem," the ghoulish apparition said, and L detected a feminine quality in its tones. "I am a shinigami."

L wasn't Japanese, but he'd spent enough time in the Land of the Rising Sun to be familiar with the concept. Shinigami were popular figures in Japanese storytelling, having evolved from the European concept of the Grim Reaper. If he'd ruminated on it in the past, he would have found it an amusing example of cultural diffusion, but he couldn't laugh about it now.

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked.

The creature tilted its head in a lizard-like fashion, before shaking its head slowly. "I have no plans to do so at this time."

"Then what are you here for?"

"To observe," the creature replied.

L was an observer by nature, but the idea that something was observing him made him irritated. He understood it was hypocritical, but that wasn't the point. "Observe what?"

The monster shifted its gaze over to Raito, evaluating, before turning its (_her_, L decided) back to L. "On how the Death Note is used."

L's eyes darted involuntarily to the small black book he was still holding. "This?" L held it up, wondering how a couple of sheets of paper could kill people half a world away. Prior to learning about the Kira case, he'd believed such a thing was impossible; experience had taught him differently. "How does it work?"

"I will not tell you," the shinigami replied.

The creature was a master of short, non-informative answers, L thought. It was irritating, and he found his fear start to recede as it was overpowered by a sense of irritation.

"Then what can you tell me?" L asked, turning his head to the other person in the room. "How long have you known about the existence of this book?"

Raito glanced over at Rem. "Can you step outside, please?"

"She doesn't need to," L said quickly, his voice rising slightly, not wanting to let this creature out of his sight... and unsure if he was using that as an excuse to avoid being left alone with Raito.

Rem shifted her head with a peculiar kind of grace as she took a moment to regard both of them. "As long as the Death Note is here, I will be as well," she replied.

L looked back and forth at them, trying to think his way through this situation. His throat was sore from the screaming, and he'd barely managed to stop his hands from shaking. Trying to handle the situation was going to test his already overstressed nerves.

To his surprise, Raito took another couple steps toward him, and L had to restrain his instinct to retreat from the unknown variable. Raito lifted his hand from his side, holding out a small piece of wrapped dark chocolate. "This will help you calm down," he said.

"The thing isn't some kind of real Dementor, is it?" L asked. He wasn't sure if he dared take the candy Raito was offering, a part of him suspecting poison.

Raito blinked. "Excuse me?"

L couldn't help but snicker, even in this situation. Trust Yagami Raito to have not read Harry Potter. He accepted the piece of chocolate, deciding against over analyzing Raito's surprisingly thoughtful gesture. If Raito wanted him dead, he'd surely use a more creative method than poison.

"Never mind," he murmured as the rich dark chocolate melted on his tongue. The fact that Raito had brought it into the bathroom with him spoke only of Raito's uncanny ability to predict L himself. An hour ago that might have been an assurance that their partnership was working, but now it was another reason for L to curse himself.

And second later, he cursed Raito's perception. Raito was right, damn it. The sugar infusion served to settle L down, and kicked his more logical side into gear.

Along with his common sense.

A tingling sensation of unease went down his spine as he took another look at the shinigami. He didn't know how long Rem had been lurking, but it had to have been for a couple hours at least, since Raito didn't seem shocked by its appearance. Modesty was a concept he found quaint, but the idea of Rem watching them fuck made him feel vulnerable. While lost in the throes of lust, L had let his guard down.

_Never again._

He'd let Raito too close to start with, a mistake he would have to try to mitigate. A day ago, he would have glanced over at Raito to silently communicate his plan, but instead he remained focused on Rem.

"How come I can see you now?"

"Because you touched a Death Note that I have guardianship over," Rem responded. "That Note is connected to me, and thus you are able to see me."

"And Raito sees you as well," L said, tilting a sweet smile at Raito. "So obviously he has touched this Note as well." Never mind that L had found it in Raito's clothes; a good detective knew a case should not be built upon a single piece of evidence.

Raito, with his characteristic poise, didn't even flinch. Instead he raised an eyebrow, his lips curving slightly as he took a couple steps back. To his credit, he didn't bother trying to make an excuse.

Fitting, L thought. Raito hadn't changed at all; it was L's perceptions of Raito that were undergoing the revolution. When they had met, L had thought to use Raito. Now the shoe was well and truly on the other foot, and L was humiliated. He had never believed that someone might be able to outwit _him._

He took a deep breath, struggling not to let his anger rise. Right now, he needed more information on the Death Note.

Then he could figure out what to do with his untrustworthy lover. L turned away from Raito, re-focusing on the shinigami for his next question. "You were with Amane Misa until recently, weren't you?"

"I came to this world to present her with this Death Note," Rem said."The shinigami who possessed it previously died to save her, so it was hers by right."

It was an actual, straight-forward answer. L distrusted that.

"How many Death Notes are there?"

"One for every shinigami," Rem replied.

"But this one belonged to Misa," L said, waving it slightly. "Was she a shinigami?"

"Amane Misa was human, albeit a special one."

"One who could use this Death Note to kill people she didn't like?"

"Anyone who has possession of Death Note can utilize it."

Questioning Rem was like questioning a police officer, L thought. Rem was clever, and limited herself to the shortest answer possible and deliberately choosing to interpret queries in aggravating ways. This was a contest of endurance, about whether L's patience would last long enough to weasel good intelligence out of her.

Curiously, Raito had little to add to the conversation, watching with sharp eyes as L tried to interrogate the shinigami. That little fact assured L that Raito had already known all these answers. It was another log on the pyre of their partnership.

"As a shinigami, you have one as well?"

Rem offered a slow nod, but didn't speak.

"So who currently owns this one?"

Rem shrugged. "Ownership is a technicality. Possession is the law."

In that second, L's mind raced through a staggering number of scenarios and possibilities. He was holding the breakthrough to the Kira case in his hands. With this Death Note, he'd be able to track down the "original" Kira, since he was convinced Amane Misa hadn't been the first to be visited by a shinigami. The Kira deaths, while petty, had served a more global purpose that the deaths that surrounded Misa. Misa had only killed those who got in her way; she had been a selfish personality.

And L could be selfish, too.

L needed to examine this Death Note to determine how it worked. For a second, L considered running some trials to learn how to utilize the Death Note. He couldn't confirm the little black book as a murder weapon without actually seeing it with his own eyes – because the very idea was outside of all the rules of science and logic he believed in. But the whole Kira case was the same in defying L's previously established reality, and he wasn't going to take the chance and accidentally kill someone. L wasn't about to descend to the level of murderer.

But if he had the Death Note, then he would have Rem. Eventually he'd be able to get a straight answer out of her.

There was only one thing L needed to do immediately – get rid of the untrustworthy element. He was holding the Death Note in his hands, which made him its _de facto_ owner. The only other person who might try to claim it was standing in front of him.

And L wasn't going to let that happen. Alliances were meant to be temporary, anyway. And Raito had betrayed him first.

L stepped back toward the shower, out of Raito's immediate arm's reach, and offered a slight smile as he spoke the words to formally break their partnership, "Yagami Raito, I think the time has come for us to part ways."


End file.
